The Faded Shield
Act I Could a man buy his sister’s life with a lie, or would the price be his own soul? Dmitri Kozlov stood in the wire room of the brokerage, the dust of the street settling on the brass fittings of the telegraph key, a fine, gritty film that coated his tongue and the worn leather of his gloves. He was thirty-two, his hands roughened by the milliner’s last real customer, a trade that had long...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews