The factory had been dead for twenty years before Dale got the job.
Not dead-dead. There was power. There was a fence. There was a camera in the corner that probably worked, maybe. But the Great Lakes Steel plant on the edge of Youngstown was what people in Cleveland called "a parking lot with memories." Twenty million square feet of concrete and rust and the ghosts of ten thousand shift changes. Dale Hargrove was fifty-four, which made him three years younger...
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