The Golden Maze
The letter in my file was not merely a document; it was a cage. I found it only after Mayor Silas Vane had summoned me to his oak-paneled office, a room that smelled of stale pipe tobacco and the damp earth of the town’s oldest graves, to read aloud the accusation that I had embezzled forty pounds from the municipal fund. I stood there, my hands trembling not from fear but from the sudden, icy...
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