The Golden Maze
Chapter One "You are chasing ghosts, Dalia Najjar," the ferryman spat, his voice cutting through the damp air of the quay. The rain in Tunis was not like the rain in other places. It was a physical weight, a grey curtain that turned the white town into a sketch of itself. Dalia stood on the cobblestones, her boots slick, clutching the bronze mirror to her chest. The metal was cold, colder than...
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