The Golden Suspect
The ink in your pen is running low, a thin, rusty streak that threatens to blot the final line of the incident report. You cap the fountain pen with a sharp click, the sound too loud in the hushed archive, and set it down on the blotter next to the cold cup of tea. You are Elias Thorne, forty-two years old, a senior archivist at the Ministry of Records, and you have spent the last three weeks...
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