The Golden Scar
Văn Hoa, thirty-two, a border patrol officer, woke with the taste of copper in his mouth and the weight of a golden scar on his chest that was not there. He wanted to secure his daughter’s medical transfer out of the Sector, but the first sign of opposition was the static on his radio, which played his own voice from three days ago. The static was not random. It was a scheduled purge of...
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