The Faded Root
The inspector’s report was on your desk, yellowed and brittle, smelling of damp earth. You read it twice, then laughed, a dry sound that scraped your throat. "Faded root," you muttered, tapping the page. "A ghost in the foundation." You were Elias Thorne, structural engineer, forty-two years old, and you did not believe in ghosts. You believed in load paths, tensile strength, and the cold, hard...
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