The Golden Mirror
The gold is in the veins of your left hand, a slow, viscous bleed that stains the prison bars yellow before it even touches the iron. You are Elias Thorne, forty years old, and you have six hours to convince the magistrate that you are not a thief, a fraud, or a monster, despite the fact that your blood has begun to run like molten metal. The town of Oakhaven, with its soot-blackened chimneys...
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