The Golden Downtown
The phone rang, a sharp, mechanical shriek that cut through the heavy silence of the office. Elias did not move from his chair, his hands resting flat on the cold oak surface, fingers splayed as if trying to anchor himself to the physical world. The caller ID flashed: County Records. He let it ring until the voicemail tone, a soft, patient beep, replaced the urgency. Outside, the snow was...
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