The Faded Ruin
The clipboard in Mara’s hands was cold, the laminate surface slick with the condensation of a room that had been heated too long without ventilation. She stood before the High Council, a semicircle of men in charcoal suits who sat behind a desk of polished oak that reflected the fluorescent lights in a blinding white glare. The data she held was irrefutable, a three-page summary of resource...
0 Comments 0 Shares 3 Views 0 Reviews