Friday afternoon brought a sudden, radiant break in the autumn chill, bathing the Eastern Seaboard in crisp, golden sunshine. Julian’s private Sikorsky helicopter lifted off from the 34th Street East River helipad, banking sharply over the sparkling blue waters of Long Island Sound. Below them, the dense grid of Manhattan quickly gave way to the sprawling estates, equestrian farms, and sandy barrier islands of the Hamptons. Clara sat in the…
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