The Golden Crossing

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2026-08-24 21:25:36 -

Thorne! Stop that. Elias froze, his trowel hovering over the wet mortar. The sound of the call had cut through the low hum of the wind whistling through the broken window frames of the estate’s upper floor. He did not turn. He could not. His hands were trembling, not from the cold, though the November air was biting, but from a vibration that seemed to rise up through the soles of his boots and...

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