What the City Owes
What the City Owes The smoke from the Chicago Union Stock Yards hung over the city like a permanent afternoon. It was October 1925, and the air tasted of iron and ambition—the kind of air that made you believe anything was possible if you were willing to pay the price. Eleanor Hartwell sat at her desk in a rented office above a saloon on South State Street and stared at a document that had...
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