Chapter 19

A sickly, color-draining light filled the HQ kitchenette, making the clean floors look jaundiced. The coffee machine had died years ago but lived on through the necromancy of duct tape and replacement carafes; it brewed sludge, but it brewed. A corkboard hung next to the fridge, tacked with a rotating hellscape of shift schedules, clipped comics, and three separate lists labeled “Do Not Remove Under Penalty of Death.” Most of the lists were Mara’s.

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