The Golden Scar
Chapter One The hollows of the Appalachian ridge were waking up, the air thick with the grit of coal dust and the distant, rhythmic thrum of the road that never stopped sounding. In the valley below, the trade diaspora moved through the host city, carrying the weight of a business built on one client, while the landlord sat absent in his office, the door locked against the morning. I was Bertha...
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