The Man Who Forgot He Was Dead
ACT I The morgue smelled like bleach and old pennies. Daniel Cross knelt on the concrete floor between the cold storage drawers, his forehead pressed against the stainless steel lip of drawer fourteen. His hands rested on his knees. His shoulders trembled. Detective Maria Santos stood in the doorway and watched him for a full minute before anyone could speak. She had been called from a parking...
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