The Glass Ceiling
(Style B1: New York Urban) The 42nd floor of the Sterling-Vane Tower didn't have windows; it had panoramic vistas of a city that never slept and never forgave. Sarah stood in the center of her office, the air conditioned to a precise, sterile sixty-eight degrees. She had been the perfect corporate bride, married to Mark, the golden boy of the firm, whose heart had finally given out under the...
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