The Golden Visit
The theodolite trembled in Elias Thorne’s hands, the crosshairs drifting three degrees east of the iron gate that marked the perimeter of the old St. Jude’s Hospital. He adjusted the focus, wiped the lens with a chamois cloth, and leveled the instrument again, but the needle refused to settle, swinging with a mechanical persistence that defied the stability of the tripod. Elias was a man of...
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