The Golden Quest
The letter lay on the kitchen table, its edges curling slightly in the dry air, the red "CONFIDENTIAL" stamp bleeding into the cheap wood grain. Elias Thorne read it twice, the words blurring as the dream of golden grain turning to ash still clung to his eyelids. His twenty-year career, built on the sterile precision of federal compliance, had just been reduced to a line of text: "Report...
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