The Golden Song
Elias held the spine of the 1894 *Ledger of Accounts*, feeling the brittle crackle of the paper against his calloused thumb. The book was heavy, not just with ink, but with the dust of forty years of neglect, and the weight of it pulled at his wrist as he tried to straighten it on the desk. Outside, the November wind rattled the sash windows of the old Thornfield estate, a sound that had become...
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