The Golden Maze
Chapter One Astrid’s hand was already on the brass lever when the cold bit through her wool sleeve, the metal slick with the moisture of the reclamation yard’s damp air. She was thirty-two, a typesetter on her last shift before the mill closed for good, and the weight of the unsellable timeshare sat on her chest like a stone in a lead-lined box. The walls of the Strand estate, which had once...
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