The Pale Bonsai
Who among the dead can still bind the living? The question hung in the stale air of the customs inspection bay, a ghost that Ofelia Cabrera had learned to ignore in her twelve years of service, until the scent of wet earth and old silk cut through the smell of rotting timber. She stood before crate number four-seven, a massive block of oak bound with wire, and felt the heat of the afternoon...
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