The Faded Apartment
The rain in the city did not fall so much as it hovered, a persistent, gray mist that clung to the wet concrete and the rusted iron of the fire escapes, creating a humid, suffocating atmosphere that seemed to press down on the shoulders of every pedestrian who dared to step outside the warm, sterile glow of the coffee shops and the underground transit stations. Marcus Thorne stood on the corner...
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