The Rain of Iron
The rain in New York never truly stopped; it only changed its intensity. It was a grey, oppressive drizzle that blurred the edges of the skyscrapers and turned the streets into rivers of oil and neon reflections. Elias lived in the seams of this city, in a windowless apartment that smelled of ozone and old cigarettes. He had once been a detective with the NYPD, a man who believed in the law...
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