The Distant Metropolis
Chapter One Estrid Strand’s hands were cracked and bleeding, the skin peeling back from the knuckles like dried paint. She stood in the drafty office of the university archive, facing Marcus, her department head, who sat behind a desk cluttered with unpaid invoices and a cold cup of coffee. "The digitization grant is gone, Estrid," Marcus said, not looking up from his ledger. "The board cut the...
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