The Hollow Harmony
The air in New York during the summer of 1924 was a fever dream of gin, gasoline, and the relentless, syncopated beat of the jazz age. Daisy stood at the center of the ballroom, her flapper dress a shimmer of silver sequins that caught the light like a thousand dying stars. She was twenty-one, a debutante of the highest order, possessed of a beauty that was discussed in the same breath as the...
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