The Distant Temple
Chapter One Isandro Talamantes hauled the crate up the wet steps of the customs house, the wood splintering under the weight of ten years of silence. He was forty, his back aching from the piano moves that kept his student debt alive, and he carried a bronze seal in his pocket that hummed whenever a lie was spoken near it. The rain in Mexico City did not fall; it pressed down, finding every...
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