The Wistful Dinner
The rain did not fall so much as it seeped, a cold, gray mist that clung to the high windows of the Grand Hotel Aeterna, blurring the city below into a smear of sodium lights and wet asphalt. Inside the main dining room, the air was thick with the scent of roasted pheasant and expensive perfume, a sensory fog that seemed to suspend time itself. Elias Thorne stood by the service entrance, his...
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