The Golden Myth
The train shuddered to a halt in the gray dawn, and Elias Thorne stepped onto the platform with his duffel bag heavy against his shoulder, the weight of it a familiar companion after twenty years in uniform. He was thirty-four, though the lines around his eyes and the stiffness in his knees suggested a man who had lived several decades more than he had. The air at Blackwood Asylum tasted of wet...
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