The Tunnel at Five Points
ACT I Maya Cohen's office overlooked a wall. Not a metaphorical wall—the kind of cinderblock wall that had been painted the same shade of beige since 1967 and never repainted since. The wall was in the building across the street from her desk at the New York Tribune, and it had been there longer than she had been alive. It was also, she had discovered three weeks ago, the only thing in...
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