The Tuesday After
The Tuesday After ACT I Frankie Chen was three hours into a five-hour shift at the diner when Sebastian Cross walked in at 2:47 AM on a Thursday in March, and she knew who he was because everybody in the East Village knew who he was, even the people who pretended not to. He was sitting in the back booth, the one with the vinyl that had cracked in the shape of a question mark, and he was...
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