CHAPTER 107: THE RIVER DOESN'T JUST SWALLOW WATER

The air on the banks of the Avelino was a slap of stagnant humidity and fuel exhaust. After the chaos at the meatpacking plant—where Gato Olmos had been reduced to a shivering wreck of nerves and spasms—Alessio decided the time for questions was over. Before collapsing completely, Olmos had surrende...

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