The Golden Downtown
The ink on the ledger page was still wet, a dark, viscous smear that seemed to bleed into the grain of the paper as Arthur Vane held his pen above it, the weight of the nib pressing a small, white crescent into his trembling finger. Mr. Sterling stood behind him, his shadow falling across the desk like a heavy, woolen blanket, and the air in the cramped office was thick with the scent of stale...
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