The Faded Bouquet
The chandeliers in the Oakhaven Hall are heavy with the weight of unspoken debts, their crystal prisms refracting the sickly, luminescent green glow that pulses from the centerpieces into the faces of the town’s elite, and you, Elias Thorne, stand at the periphery of this grotesque banquet, your hand resting on the small of your back where the badge you have worn for twenty years feels less...
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