The Golden Suspect
"Is it true?" The question hung in the air, sharp as a shard of ice. I did not look up from the map. My fingers traced the jagged line of the coast, the ink smudged by sweat. "It is," I said. "Then why do we stay?" I finally looked at him. Silas. His face was a ruin of dirt and old blood. He was young. Too young for this. "Because the gold is here," I said. "And the men?" "Are dead." Silas spat...
0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 1 Views 0 önizleme