The Faded Guest
The banquet hall smelled of stale champagne and the metallic tang of fear, a scent that had settled into the velvet upholstery over the decades, becoming part of the fabric of the room itself, of the city, of the man who stood at the center of the table with his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes fixed on the broken shards of the blue china cup that lay scattered across the polished oak...
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