The Faded River
Chinda Udomchai’s hands, stained with the grease of the loom room and the salt of the klong, moved with the rigid precision of a man who had spent thirty years ensuring that the law did not merely suggest, but compelled. He was fifty-two, a senior enforcer in the court of the timeless palace that had swallowed the commuter belt whole, and he carried the weight of the final decree against Kael,...
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