The Golden Harbor
The invoice lay on the nightstand, its paper thin and cold under Elias Thorne’s thumb. It was a demand for payment, but the numbers were wrong, a bureaucratic error that felt like a personal insult. He did not sign it. He pushed the paper aside and looked at the bed where his son, Julian, lay shivering beneath a sheet that was too heavy for the humid air of the harbor city. The boy’s skin was...
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