The Golden Oath
The brass token sat in my palm, cold and heavy as a stone pulled from a riverbed, its surface worn smooth by the friction of forty years of anxious hands. I held it up to the gaslight in the corner of the Meridian Insurance Exchange’s main hall, watching the flame catch the curvature of the metal, and felt the familiar, arrhythmic thud of my heart against my ribs, a mechanical stutter that...
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