The Golden Farce
The demolition permit lay on the kitchen table, its edges curling in the damp air. Elias Thorne stared at the signature line, empty and mocking. He was thirty-four, a structural engineer who knew the tensile strength of steel but not the weight of his own debt. The house, The Gilded Cage, stood three hundred yards away, a Victorian monstrosity that smelled of rotting timber and old sweat. He...
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