The Golden Mirror
The letter lay on the scarred surface of the desk, the ink still wet in the corners where the seal had been pressed. It was a termination notice, standard form, unsigned, waiting for Elias Thorne to acknowledge his thirty-four years of service to St. Jude’s Asylum with a single, trembling signature. He did not sign it. Instead, he slid the paper into his pocket, the crisp texture of the...
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