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The email arrived at 4:47 on a Thursday afternoon, which was, Mireille had learned, the hour when bad news always came. She read it three times. Then she closed her laptop, walked to the window of the Brussels newsroom, and …
Read more →The radio tower on Kessler Island had been broadcasting for forty-one years when the floodwaters finally reached the generator room door. Maya Ostroff noticed the seepage at 6:47 in the morning, right between the weather segment and the local obituaries. …
Read more →The studio smelled like burnt coffee and deadline panic, which Maya had long since decided was the natural scent of truth. She sat at the anchor desk at 11:47 PM, thirteen minutes before the broadcast, reviewing the rundown her producer …
Read more →The satellite feed cut out three times before Mara finally got a clean signal. She pressed her back against the crumbling concrete wall of what had once been the Valeria Municipal Library and watched the progress bar crawl across her …
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