The Distant Whispers

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2026-08-22 18:40:33 -

The champagne flute slipped from Elias’s fingers, not with a crash, but with a dull, wet thud against the marble floor, shattering into a constellation of crystal shards that caught the chandelier light before he could react. "You’re sure it’s the hand, Elias?" Margaret asked, her voice low, barely audible over the hum of the string quartet. She stood close enough that he could smell the...

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