The Golden Echoes
The rain against the windows of the Meridian Insurance Exchange did not wash the city clean; it merely blurred the edges of the soot, turning the grey brick of the financial district into a smear of wet charcoal. Arthur Vane stood before the mahogany desk of Mr. Sterling, his hand trembling not from the cold, but from the violent, rattling cough that had seized his chest since dawn. He was...
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