The Pale Meridian
The scale read 42.5 grams, a number that hung in the air like a threat. Elias Thorne watched the digital display blink, his thumb hovering over the tare button, while the kitchen around him churned with the frantic energy of a Tuesday service. He was thirty-four years old, a head chef at Maison Verne, and he had spent the last six hours counting every grain of salt, every drop of reduction,...
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