The Golden Greenhouse
The letter, dated October 14, 1892, sat on Arthur Vane’s desk like a small, folded wound, its ink smudged by the dampness of the municipal archive where he had spent the last three hours cataloging the rotting ledgers of the old textile district. He held the brass key in his left hand, the metal cold and heavy against his palm, a relic from his father’s pocket that he had found tucked inside a...
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