PREVIEW
... t a few blocks later.
We followed the rails east until they simply stopped—melted into the street like someone had poured the city through a strainer.
The tramline ended in a jagged cut through Arcadia’s ribs.
We picked our way down, boots crunching glass, the sound too loud in the quiet. Somewhere in the smoke, something heavy collapsed with the sigh of an old building giving up on being vertical.
Arcadia didn’t look like it was dying—it looked like it had alread ...
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