The Distant Cartograph
The atrium of the Meridian Tower was a cathedral of glass and steel, a sealed throat of the city that Elias Thorne had helped to design, and he stood at its base with his lungs burning as if they were filled with crushed glass, the air too thin to sustain the fifty-two-year-old engineer whose body was failing faster than his pride. Sarah, his junior partner, stood ten feet away, her heels...
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