The Fraying Weight of Quiet Crowns and the Heavy Grace Left Standing on Broken Concrete
CHAPTER 1: THE DESCENT INTO THE STATIC “You don’t have to keep the cap on, Grandpa,” Chloe murmured, her fingers tightening around the canvas strap of her backpack. “The air down here is heavy enough.” Frank Vance didn’t adjust the brim. His thumb, thick and patterned with ancient, faded grease scars, remained Hooked into the…