The Faded Quadrant
The air in the counting house of the Sterling & Vane Mercantile Company was thick with the scent of beeswax and old paper, a cloying perfume that seemed to cling to the throat and linger in the lungs long after a breath was taken, creating a suffocating atmosphere where every word spoken felt heavier than the ledger books stacked in towering, precarious columns along the stone walls. Thomas...
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