The Faded Root
Chapter One Who pays for the weight of a lie? The question hangs in the damp air of the provincial town, heavier than the dust that has settled on the cobblestones, a fine grey powder that coats the bristles of the pigs I handled at the docks before the war. I am Olya Bogdanov, a constable of thirty-two years, and I stand in the queue at the ration office, my hand closed around the iron key in...
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