The Pale Meridian
Chapter One "You will not sell it to me, Hassan, but you will let it rot," Youssef said, his voice flat against the humidity of the room. I looked at the water seeping from the plaster in the corner of the kitchen, a slow, salty weep that had begun three days after the funeral of my wife, Laila. The walls of this house at forty-two of Widow's Landing had always been thin, but they had only ever...
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