The Distant Wound
The rain in Sector 4 did not fall so much as it was exhaled by the sky, a gray, persistent mist that seeped into the cracks of the administrative block’s foundation. Elias stood alone in the downpour, twelve years old and shivering, his fingers white-knuckled around a forged transit pass that felt heavier than lead. He wanted to cross the border, to find the woman who had been taken three years...
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