The Faded Shield
My hand was shaking as I tried to slide the glass shard into its slot, the metal tweezers slipping against the wet, cold surface. It was 4:15 a.m. in the conservation lab, and the only sound was the low, electric hum of the dehumidifiers fighting the damp October air. Elias Thorne, forty-two, had spent the last three hours cleaning the dust from the "Shattered Glass" exhibit, a collection of...
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