The Distant Threshold
The fluorescent tube above the intake desk flickered, buzzing a low, dying note that So-hee Hwang felt in her teeth. Her hands, still stained with the soot of the chimney sweep she had been hired to play that morning, gripped the edge of the metal counter. The air in the Ministry of Internal Affairs smelled of wet wool and ozone, a scent that clung to the back of the throat like a bad...
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