The Golden Oath
The gate of the administrative complex was a slab of reinforced concrete, grey and unyielding against the pale morning sky, and Elias Thorne stood before it with his back straight, a posture that cost him more effort than it had in years. Through the chain-link fence, he watched Clara’s sedan merge onto the highway, the infant son they had named David a small, indistinct blur in the rear seat,...
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