The Golden Scar
The badge was gold, stamped with the seal of the Municipal Compliance Bureau, and it felt heavy in Elias’s hand, heavier than it had in the three years he had worn it. "You’re flagged, Elias. Don’t make this a scene." The supervisor, a man named Halloway whose uniform was always pressed with a severity that seemed to drain the color from the walls, held out his palm. The air in the archive room...
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