The Golden Maze
The shovel bites into the frozen clay with a sound like a bone snapping, a sharp, wet crack that echoes off the limestone walls of the cellar. You are Elias, forty-two, a border patrol sergeant whose hands are raw and bleeding, the dirt packed into the whorls of your fingerprints so deeply it looks like part of your skin. You are digging for a deed, a piece of parchment that your mother hid in...
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