The drive across the Bay Bridge took forty minutes through the thinning coastal fog, the steel spans of the bridge giving way to the gritty, sun-warmed industrial warehouses of West Oakland. Liam pulled the car through a rusted chain-link gate into the courtyard of an old brick ironworks building. Painted in weathered white letters above the heavy metal fire door was the sign: *THE SOUND FOUNDRY — ANALOG TRACKING &…
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