The Golden Scar
The ledger lay open on the steel table, its pages stiff with dust and the smell of rust. Sergeant Elias Thorne traced a line of missing fuel allocations with a finger that did not tremble, though the air in the office was thick with the metallic tang of impending violence. He wanted out. He wanted the quiet pension, the small house on the edge of the industrial zone, and his mother’s hands...
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