The Wistful Grid
October 14 The champagne in the crystal flutes at the Sterling & Halloway annual gala tasted of copper and cold steel, a metallic tang that coated the back of Elias Thorne’s throat as he stood rigidly by the mahogany bar, watching Mr. Vance dissect him in front of three hundred colleagues. Vance did not shout; he merely adjusted his cufflinks, a slow, deliberate gesture that signaled the...
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