Monica Tarta

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the twenty-ninth floor, which was the top floor. They were in the elevator long enough for Toby to break out in a light, panicked sweat over being in a small box that was probably mechanically compromised from age and use. Elevators had never bothered him before, but lately, his faith in systems was wobbly. Why had he put so much trust in elevators in the first place? Why did everyone?
Fleishman Is in Trouble
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