The Distant Whispers

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2026-08-17 13:12:15 -

The banquet hall smelled of roasted duck and stale perfume. Margaret Holloway stood by the chandelier, her wrist watch ticking against the pulse of her wrist. She watched her father, Thomas, dance with the department heads. He moved with a fluid grace that belied his age, a ghost in a tailored suit. He was the golden boy. He was the system. And Margaret was the flaw in his code. She held a...

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