The Golden Visit
The affidavit lay on the magistrate’s desk, a stark white rectangle against the dark oak, and Elias Thorne stared at the blank space where his signature was required, the pen heavy and cold in his hand. He had come to report a theft, a simple matter of missing property, but the room smelled of stale tobacco and damp wool, and the silence pressed against his eardrums like a low-frequency hum....
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