The Golden Crossing
The first thing you notice is the smell, a thick, cloying scent of formaldehyde and wet earth that clings to the back of your throat before your eyes adjust to the amber gloom. You are Elias Thorne, a master glazier of forty years, standing in the sealed workshop of your father, who died three years ago, and you want to complete the Golden Crossing, the massive stained-glass window commissioned...
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