The Faded Sutra
The letter sat on the mahogany desk, the seal broken, the ink dry. Elias Thorne read it twice, then folded it into his breast pocket. It was a summons to the annual gala, a black-tie affair for the city’s elite and the officers who kept their secrets safe. He was forty years old, a captain in the moral code enforcement division, and he needed the promotion to Chief more than he needed air. The...
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