The Golden Mirror
The fire did not begin with a spark but with a scream, a ragged, tearing sound that ripped through the velvet silence of the Grand Atrium and shattered the illusion of the winter gala into a thousand jagged shards of panic and smoke. I stood frozen on the dais, my hands trembling not from fear but from the sudden, violent recognition that the world I had curated, the perfect, gilded cage of the...
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