The Golden Mirror
The invoice lay on the workbench, its edges curling in the humid air of the workshop. Elias Thorne stared at the total, four thousand dollars, a sum that represented three months of his rent and the entire remainder of his savings. It was a polite number, written in ink that had dried to a dull gray, matching the dust motes dancing in the single beam of light cutting through the high window. He...
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