The Golden Mirror
The brass handle of the tannery’s office door was cold, slick with the thaw that had finally given way to the docks. Eun-woo Song pushed it open, the hinges groaning in a rhythm that needed fixing, a sound he knew better than his own pulse. Inside, the air was heavy with wet wool and iron. He was here to solve the Mirror Case, to prove to his uncle, Director Han, that his mind was sharper than...
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