The Golden Visit
You wake up in a chair that is not yours. The wood is cold against your spine, polished to a gloss that reflects the fluorescent hum of the office. It is 3:00 AM. The city outside is a grid of black glass and distant, sleeping lights. You do not know how you got here. You do not know why you are wearing a suit that fits too well, the fabric smelling of dry cleaning and ozone. On the desk before...
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