The Golden Maze
The dream was always the same, a golden wire maze that spiraled inward until the walls pressed against Elias Thorne’s chest, reflecting his own face back at him in shards of hammered brass. He woke with the taste of copper in his mouth and the heavy, damp deed to the Harrow estate in his hands, a document that was supposed to be the end of his suffering. He was forty-two, and his brother,...
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