The Golden Suspect
Chapter One Dalia Saleh’s fingers brushed the cold metal of the filing cabinet, the vibration traveling up her wrist and settling in the hollow of her chest. The air in the Ministry of Memory was still, preserved under a ceiling of dust and silence, smelling of dried clay and old paper. She pulled the drawer labeled Saleh, K. open with a sharp jerk. The wood groaned, a dry sound like a bone...
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