The Golden Harbor
The audit began with the counting of dust. Elias Thorne stood in the center of the Blackwood Estate library, his fingers tracing the rim of a cracked mahogany desk, and he counted the hours since his arrival: fourteen, perhaps fifteen. The light from the high windows was failing, turning the air into a thick, amber slurry that settled in the crevices of his coat. He needed the ledger. He needed...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews