The Wistful Mirror
The banquet hall in the basement of the Community Center on Oak Street was a cavern of clashing frequencies, where the humid, yeasty breath of three hundred people mingled with the sterile, ozone-sharp scent of the industrial ventilation system that attempted, and failed, to scrub the air clean of cigarette smoke and body odor. Elias Thorne stood near the service entrance, his back pressed...
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