The Faded Road
The satellite image sat on the desk, a cold blue square of truth that contradicted the ink on my hands. I tapped the glass with a dry finger, the sound sharp in the quiet office. "This is a glitch, Sarah," I said, my voice flat. "The spectral line is still there. I have measured it." Sarah leaned over the desk, her eyes narrowing. She was young, efficient, and she smelled of the rain that had...
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