The Golden Crossing
The crystal chandeliers in the Union Trust banquet hall caught the gaslight and scattered it across the tablecloth in jagged, expensive shards, illuminating the faces of the men who had built the city and, in Elias Vane’s estimation, broken it. Elias stood at the head of the long mahogany table, his hands folded neatly in his lap, his spine rigid against the weight of the forty years he had...
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