The Golden Quest
The ledger was gone, and the walls were humming. I stood in the corridor of St. Jude’s Asylum, my flashlight beam trembling against the peeling wallpaper, searching for the file that would prove I hadn’t started the fire three years ago. My name was Elias Thorne, forty-two, a night watchman with a history the Board called "unstable" and I called "misunderstood." The morning audit was at six. If...
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