The Golden Greenhouse
The invoice from Vane & Sons arrived on a Tuesday, slipped under the door of the workshop while Elias was still asleep, the paper damp with the October rain that had been falling since dawn. He picked it up, his fingers stained with the grey residue of silica sand, and read the total owed for the replacement of the shattered panes in the eastern bay of the factory floor, a sum of forty-two...
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