The Faded Bouquet
The chandelier in the Oakhaven Town Hall swayed with a pendulum’s slow, hypnotic grace, casting long, swinging shadows that seemed to hunt Elias Thorne across the polished mahogany floor. He stood at the center of the banquet, a solitary figure amidst the sea of cream silk and dark suits, his chest rising and falling with a rhythm that felt less like breathing and more like the labor of holding...
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