The Golden Suspect
The rain hammered the windshield, a relentless drumming that matched the rhythm of Elias’s pulse. He gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white against the cold leather, and stared at the road ahead. The wipers fought a losing battle against the deluge, clearing only narrow arcs of visibility in the dark. Inside the rusted sedan, the air was thick with the scent of damp wool and old coffee....
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