The Ferryman's Debt

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2026-05-05 03:14:32 -

The rain had been falling on New Orleans for three days when Maria Santos walked into my office. I was sitting at my desk at 3AM, which is when I do my best work and my worst drinking. The bottle on my desk was half empty. The rain on the window was nearly full. She was Cuban-American, late twenties, wearing a dress that had been expensive and was now just worn. Her hands were shaking. Her...

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