The Wistful Ashes
Rania Habib had spent the last three years trying to forget the sound of the beam cracking, a sound that had become indistinguishable from the rain in her own skull, but the memory refused to stay buried in the mud of Sector 4, where the cypress knees of the ruins poked through the concrete like broken bones. She stood now in the grey light of the dawn, the server core gone, her hands bleeding...
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