The Golden Myth
Elias’s fingers worked the hinge of the locket, the brass cold and gritty against his skin. The metal resisted, rusted shut by years of neglect and the damp that seeped through the attic floorboards. He pried it open with a thumbnail, leaving a raw, white crescent of pain. Inside, the glass casing was cracked, a spiderweb fracture that caught the thin, gray light from the single window. Beneath...
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