The Golden Myth
The ring is marked as lost property, Miss Holloway. Not an asset. Not yours to bid on. Elara stared at the man across the desk. He did not look up. His pen hovered over a ledger, the nib wet and black, waiting to seal her fate in ink. The room smelled of dust and old paper, a dry, choking scent that coated the back of her throat. She placed her hand on the counter. The wood was cold, but the...
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