Sadie was seven years old, sitting next to her father on the flat roof of their low-slung barn as they watched farm workers move through the fields under the harvest moon. The mechanical whir of the robots filled the warm September air, and crickets sang along. Their metal limbs gleamed as…
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Inspector Gustav Ackerson removed his bowler hat and knelt next to the corpse. A boy of fourteen years stared at the nickelodeon’s plaster ceiling with glazed eyes. According to the night guardsman, the poor lad had snuck into the theater after hours and had been discovered lying on the floor next to a mutoscope.
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He glanced at her, the painting, her.
“It’s almost done,” he said. She took a step away from the wall, but he rushed to press her firmly against it. “No. I’ll turn it towards you.”
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