The Golden Ritual
The room was a suffocating cathedral of mahogany and dust, smelling of old leather and the sharp, metallic tang of anxiety. We were gathered for the Annual Review, a ritual so sacred in our firm that it bordered on the liturgical. The air was still, heavy with the unspoken weight of expectations. I sat at the long table, my hands folded tightly in my lap, feeling the strange, pricking sensation...
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