The elevator in the Goldman building had a mirror that Emily Chen avoided. Not because she was vain—
The elevator in the Goldman building had a mirror that Emily Chen avoided. Not because she was vain—she wasn't—but because the reflection always looked back at her with the same tired eyes she saw every morning in the bathroom sink. Thirty-four years old, hair pulled back in a practical knot, suit chosen to project competence rather than personality. She looked like everything she covered and...
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