The Golden Mirror
The fog did not so much obscure the town of Oakhaven as it seemed to digest it, a thick, grey slurry that clung to the windowpanes of the estate house with the tenacity of damp wool, and Elias Thorne stood before the grand mirror in the study, his hand hovering over the spine of a leather-bound ledger, waiting for the reflection to catch up. It took three seconds, a distinct and rhythmic delay,...
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