The Corrosion of Light in the Interstices of a Man-Made Eden and the High Price of Silence
CHAPTER 1: THE DRIVEWAY GEOMETRY “Step back inside the perimeter, Mr. Vance,” Special Agent Miller said. Her voice lacked the heat of anger; it possessed only the cold, unyielding weight of an iron grate dropping into place. The midday sun beat down on the cul-de-sac of Whispering Pines, but the light felt flat, bleached of…