The Distant Summer
Chapter One Could a line on a map breathe if you pressed your eye close enough? Refugio Escobedo woke from the dream with the taste of dust in his mouth and the weight of a debt he could not name. He was thirty years old, a scholar of imperial archives, and he owed a payday loan that had rolled over five times, a chain that felt heavier than the stone walls of the pueblo outside his window. The...
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