The Golden Scar

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2026-08-18 15:55:22 -

The Golden Scar

The hall smells of burnt sugar and ozone. You are standing on the podium. The lights are too bright. They white out the eyes of the crowd. You feel the heat on your skin. It is not warmth. It is judgment. You are Margaret Holloway. You are thirty-four. You are the only woman on the board. The men in the suits are watching you. They are not watching your face. They are watching your hands. "Is...

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