Chapter 10 · free to read
There was one warm room left on a freezing campus, and one old man who had hoarded its warmth like a secret his whole long life.
He unrolled a century as if it were a map, and every line on it was a wound someone had agreed to carry.
Two marks, one covenant. He had been reading it off other people's wrists for sixty years.
The enforcer had spent nine years reading the small tells of powerful men. She knew a flinch that was hiding something from a flinch that was only old.
Artwork and narration generated with AI.