The Wistful Grid
Chapter One The dust in the Thessaloniki refugee quarter settled in layers, a stratified record of neglect that coated the linoleum and the walls with an equal, indifferent weight. Ioanna Fotopoulos stood before the archive’s central terminal, her hands trembling so violently that the stylus skittered across the glass like a trapped insect, unable to find purchase on the surface. She was...
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