The Faded Dust
The banquet hall of the St. Jude’s Community Center smelled of roasted duck and damp wool, a thick, suffocating perfume that clung to the curtains and settled in the throats of the two hundred men and women who had gathered for the annual charity gala. The air was warm and still, heavy with the weight of unspoken grievances and the clink of silverware against china. Elias Thorne sat near the...
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