The Golden Suspect
The brass key in my hand was cold, a solid, heavy thing that felt less like a tool and more like a bone I had pulled from the earth, and I held it up to the gaslight in the hallway of the Meridian Assurance Company, watching the filament glow through the brass until it looked like a trapped, dying star. I am Elara Vane, and I have spent twenty years calculating the probability of death, yet I...
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