The Faded Quadrant
You’re going to sign the final reconciliation sheet, aren’t you, Elias? Sterling’s voice was smooth, a baritone that seemed to absorb the harsh light of the manor’s foyer, and he smiled with the practiced ease of a man who had never been told no. I looked at the document in his hand, a single sheet of heavy cream paper resting on a mahogany table that cost more than my monthly rent, and I felt...
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