The Golden Song
The left hand did not shake. Elias Thorne watched it rest on the edge of his oak desk, fingers spread, perfectly still. For twelve years, since the day he misfiled the ledger that cost him his brother’s pension, the tremor had been a constant companion. It started in the knuckles and traveled up the forearm, a fine vibration like a wire under tension. Now, as he packed his personal effects into...
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