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Chapter 30 - Thirty: The Reckoning
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... I could have blocked a toxic relative with a thumb-swipe. In 1870, I had to sit in the drawing room and watch Aunt Cornelia’s glare sharpen until it was a wonder the upholstery wasn’t bleeding.
Two weeks had passed and Oliver’s visits were becoming a permanent fixture in the Guggenheim estate.
Today, he was explaining the latest adjustments to the Linotype prototype, his hands sketching diagrams in the air. I listened, nodded, interjected with marketing strategies that made his ...
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