The Kneelers of Wall Street
ACT I The silence in the basement was what unsettled Vincent Russo first. Not the incense, not the rows of strangers kneeling on wooden boards, not the dim amber lighting that turned everyone's faces into something between a Rembrandt and a crime scene. It was the silence. The kind of silence that had weight and texture, the kind that pressed against your eardrums until you could hear your own...
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