The Golden Maze
Chapter One I remember the sound of the rain on the tin roof of the shuttle depot, a rhythmic tapping that sounded like coins being counted into a piggy bank, before it shifted to the duller thud of tile when I pulled into the station, and then, suddenly, silence, as if the sky had simply forgotten to continue. I was forty-two, and my hands had begun to tremble in a way that the doctors at the...
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