The Pale Echo
Who was it that turned the key from the outside? Mwanaidi Nyembo did not answer the question. He stood by the window of the sealed room, his breath fogging the glass, and watched the neighbors gather below in the low cloud. The air smelled of rot, a sweet, cloying stench that clung to the back of his throat. On the floor lay Kito, his friend, his ally, his brother in all but blood. Kito’s hands...
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