The Pale Fracture
Do you know what it feels like to hold a book that is trying to kill you? I am Randi Nystrom. I am thirty-two years old, and my hands are locked in the rusted gate of Cell 407 in the Sub-Level Archive. The automated purge has begun. The air is hot, not with the dry heat of a summer afternoon in the fjord town, but with the wet, sulfurous heat of a body that has been kept too long in a sealed...
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