The Faded Apartment
The champagne was warm in Julian’s glass, a pale, effervescent gold that caught the light of the chandelier and shattered it into a thousand fractured stars across the polished oak table. He stood at the head of the long, mahogany conference table in the top-floor office of the University of St. Jude, feeling the weight of the air, thick with the scent of lilies and the subtle, metallic tang of...
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