The Wistful Throne
Chapter One Ahmad Rahal’s fingers were already deep in the wet, fibrous root ball of the orchid when the door to the office swung open, the brass handle clanging against the frame with a sound that cut through the low, electrical hum of the incubator like a wire snapping in a storm. He did not turn; he knew the specific, heavy cadence of his sister’s heels on the linoleum, a rhythm he had...
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