The Golden Echoes
The ledger was heavy, its spine cracked and brittle, smelling of dust and the sour, fermented sweetness of stale champagne that still clung to the velvet curtains of the Grand Hotel ballroom. Elias stood alone in the center of the room, his hands trembling as he held the book, the silence pressing against his eardrums like a physical weight. He needed to clear his name before the morning shift...
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