The Golden Mirror
Thomas. The name hung in the air of the station house, heavy and wet, spoken by Inspector Miller with a flatness that cut deeper than any shout. I was forty-two, a constable of the Oakhaven force for fifteen years, and then I felt the floor tilt beneath my boots. I wanted to clear my name, to prove that the death of my son, Arthur, three years prior, had been a tragic accident and not the...
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