The Wistful Ashes
Do you remember the smell of the wet peat? It was a smell that stuck to the wool of your sweater and the inside of your lungs, a heavy, dark scent that smelled like something rotting and something growing at the same time. Carmela Bellini sat in the interview room at the retraining center, her hands folded in her lap, the leather of her gloves squeaking faintly against the vinyl chair. The room...
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