The Measured Weight of Cold Iron: A Novel of True Sovereign Restraint
CHAPTER 1: THE FRICTION OF THE BLOCK The industrial wash house smelled of stale bleach and the scorched, metallic heat of commercial ironers. It was a heavy, rusted scent that clung to the back of the throat like dried lime dust. John Vance did not look up from the folding table. His fingers, calloused and…