The Black Root Affair
It was raining in Los Angeles. Not the kind of rain you see in movies—the dramatic kind that washes everything clean. This was the other kind. The kind that just makes everything worse. It had been raining for three days. The streets were slick with oil and water and the kind of grime that no amount of rain can wash away. I was sitting in my car, parked on a street I can't remember the name of,...
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