The Golden Greenhouse
The shattering of the glass was not a sound but a physical blow, a sudden, violent exhalation that emptied the room of its air. I stood in the center of the atrium, my uniform pristine, my hands raised as if in surrender, though the object in my grip was already dust. The Golden Greenhouse, the centerpiece of the Municipal Conservatory, a structure of brass and light that had stood for a...
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