CHAPTER 54 — THE LOGBOOK THAT DOESN’T EXIST.

At 07:12, Milano breathed coffee and plaster. Piero set down the tray and, on top, two crumbs that weren’t bread: a strip of file tabs with almost invisible dots — A·C in relief — and a Post-it in tiny hand: stamp logbook — request reason for nonexistence. Lucía, surgical, pricked in by message: Don...

Login and Continue Reading