The Golden Harbor
"You sold the shares," I said, my voice flat against the damp air of the kitchen. "The boat is gone. The debt is here." Elena did not look up from the counter. Her hands were steady as she measured the golden tincture into a small glass vial. The liquid caught the grey light from the window, swirling like oil on water. I watched the drop fall, a heavy, viscous bead that refused to break. Act I...
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