The Golden Circuit
October 12, 1893 The champagne is cold, but I do not care. The glass in my hand is sweating, a thin film of condensation that distorts the chandelier above, turning the crystal into a web of fractured light. Thomas stands at the head of the long mahogany table, his voice rising to cut through the hum of the forty guests who have come to celebrate the golden anniversary of our firm. He is...
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