The Distant Ghost
Assunta D'Angelo stood in the counting room of the merchant house, her hand resting on the ledger, waiting for the ink to dry on the signature that would secure her family's debt-free future. The air in the room was heavy with cedar and old paper, a dry, dusty scent that settled into the creases of her uniform. She was thirty-two, a border patrol officer in a coastal town called Vico, and she...
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