The Wistful Campus
Act I The forge rang out before the sun cleared the ridge, a sharp, metallic bite that cut through the damp air of the high moor. Soledad Hinojosa stood at the edge of the terraced fields, her hands deep in the mud, feeling the cold seep into her bones. She was twenty-four, and her back ached from the weight of the clay pots she had hauled to the kilns all morning. The lease on the family plot...
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