The Golden Crossing
The fog in Oakhaven does not lift; it thickens, a gray wool drawn tight against the face of the world. You are Mara, thirty-four, a bridge engineer whose hands are stained with the dust of concrete and the ink of failed petitions. You want the Golden Crossing built. You need the final funding released by the council before the frost sets in, or the project dies with your father, who lies in the...
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