The Golden Cellar
Chapter One "You’re wasting the resin, Jitka." I looked up from the ledger, the pencil still pinched between my fingers, and watched as Mistr Svoboda’s shadow fell across the linoleum floor of the telegraph exchange. The room was a hum of static and clicking keys, a mechanical heartbeat that had synchronized with my own pulse over the last decade, yet his voice cut through it with the sharpness...
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