The Echo of Altruism
The gold leaf of the Chrysler Building glittered under a relentless New York sun, but inside the ballroom of the Waldorf-Astoria, the air was thick with the scent of expensive cigars and desperation. I stood at the edge of the dance floor, my dress a shimmering cascade of silver sequins that felt more like armor than fashion. It was 1926, the age of the saxophone and the illicit gin, a time...
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