The Golden Quest
The pen slipped from Elias Thorne’s fingers, leaving a jagged black smear across the actuarial table. He stared at the ink, watching it bleed into the grain of the wood, while his hands trembled with a violence that felt foreign, as if the bones were shifting under the skin. The bowl of fruit sat on his desk, a domestic horror of rotting peaches and bruised apples, the air around it thick with...
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