Chapter 9: The Suite

Chapter 9: The Suite

The elevator was the sort that had once tried very hard to be impressive. Mirrored interior, brass fittings, and a vertical row of buttons that ended with one labeled Presidential in a font so dignified it practically cleared its throat before speaking. The car rose with a low hum, like a machine that had spent years waiting for a reason to matter and had decided, tonight, that dignity was the best revenge.

Proxy was on the cameras.

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