The Golden Echoes
The rain had been falling for three days, a cold, persistent sheet that turned the gravel path into a slurry of mud and rotting leaves, and Elias Thorne stood at the window of the Director’s office, watching the water streak the glass in long, erratic lines that resembled the marginalia he had been trying to decipher for six weeks. "You’re blocking the light, Elias," Director Halloway said from...
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