The Faded Masquerade
Act I "You are not the architect, you are the leak in the wall," the Chief Inspector said, his voice flat and dry as the dust in the rafters. Amparo Escobedo stood in the flooded basement of the newly industrialized Palace of Iron, the water lapping at her boots, her hands white-knuckled around a rolled blueprint that was already dissolving at the edges. It was 1840, and the air smelled of wet...
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