The Golden Mirror
The gold leaf on the walls of the Chief Inspector’s office peeled in thin, dry curls, a skin shedding under the harsh fluorescent hum. Elias Thorne stood in the center of the room, the stolen mirror clutched against his chest like a shield. The glass was cold, reflecting his own fractured face back at him, a mosaic of forty-five years of service and ten years of silence. He wanted to return the...
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