Midnight had fallen over Manhattan, and the city that never slept was a tranquil, glittering ocean of electric sapphire and gold beneath a clear winter sky. Twelve hundred feet above 42nd Street, atop the towering spire of One Vanderbilt, the private, open-air observation terrace of the eighty-fourth floor was an enchanted sanctuary floating between the earth and the stars. The night air was freezing, sharp with the clean scent of…
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