The Golden Suspect
Yasaman Zare remembered the door before she remembered her own name. Chapter One The air in the desalination plant tasted of rust and salt, a heavy, metallic tang that coated the back of her throat. She stood in the intake clog, her orbital welder’s suit damp with condensation, staring at the golden door set into the concrete wall. It did not look like a door. It looked like a wound in the...
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