The Golden Downtown
The first thing you notice is not the sound of the sirens, which have long since faded into a low, oscillating hum that vibrates in the marrow of your bones, but the smell. It is the scent of wet copper and ozone, mixed with the sharp, sterile tang of the cleaning solution the precinct uses to scrub the floors. You stand in the center of the bullpen, your hands still trembling with a fine,...
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