The Golden Visit
The weight of the golden case was forty-two grams, a precise, cold fact that Elias Thorne had memorized to the milligram, and he held it in his right hand as if it were a live thing, a small, warm bird that might take flight if he loosened his grip. He stood in the center of the boardroom, a glass-walled cathedral on the fiftieth floor where the air was scrubbed so clean it tasted of ozone and...
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