The Concrete Boundary Line Where False Dominance Crumbles Under The Weight Of Hard Truth
CHAPTER 1: THE FIRST SCRAPE “You’re three inches over the public right-of-way, and the city will hear about the grease trap leakage,” the voice barked before the screen door had even clicked shut behind him. David didn’t look up immediately. He kept his boots planted on the cracked asphalt of the driveway, his thumb rubbing…