The Moral Cipher
The jazz in the Savoy was loud, but the silence in Julian’s head was louder. It was 1924, and New York was a fever dream of gold and gin, a city convinced that the party would never end. Julian sat at a corner table, watching the flappers dance in a blur of sequins and pearls, their laughter sounding to him like the ticking of a clock. Julian was a man of numbers. While others saw the stock...
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