The Wistful Skyline
The banquet hall of the University of St. Jude’s was a cavern of white tablecloths and crystal, smelling faintly of stale perfume and expensive wool. Professor Elias Thorne sat at the head of a long mahogany table, his hands resting flat on the linen, fingers splayed as if trying to anchor himself to the floorboards. The air was thick, pressurized by the weight of two hundred guests who watched...
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