The Golden Oath
The letter lay on the table, its paper thin as onion skin, the ink smudged where your thumb had pressed too hard. It was a bill, technically, though it looked more like an execution warrant. The sum was 14,000 euros. The deadline was three days. You stared at the number until the digits blurred, the zeros expanding into dark pools that swallowed the rest of the page. The basement apartment was...
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