The Golden Crossing
The gaslight hissed in the Municipal Archive, a thin, sharp sound that cut through the silence of the reading room. Thomas Vane, twelve years old and hunched over a ledger of tax assessments, held his breath as the nib of his fountain pen scraped against the heavy paper. He was not supposed to be here. It was past midnight, and the janitor had locked the main doors an hour ago, leaving Thomas...
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