Face Cards
By Abby Meacham “I fold.” The words echoed in the gentlemen’s hall. Although it was nearly midnight, the chandeliers were still glowing, the windows shut against the rainstorm outside. It was empty save for the four men seated at a table near the back, all clad in costly suits. One was smirking, one was frowning, one was stacking his chips, and one held no expression at all. The smirker was Charlie Harte. He was a Read more