The Golden Crossing
The rain in Pittsburgh did not fall so much as it settled, a grey, metallic dust that coated the lungs of the city with the taste of iron and old pennies. Inside the Sterling & Vane Textile Mill, the air was thick with the scent of lanolin, coal smoke, and the sharp, chemical bite of the new aniline dyes. Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the carding room, his hands resting on the railing,...
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