Rosa Marino’s fingers moved without thinking anymore, guiding fabric beneath the needle of her sewing machine. Stitch, stitch, stitch—five hundred shirtwaists a day if she kept pace. The rhythm had become as natural as breathing during her eighteen months at the Triangle Waist Company. She barely had to think about what she was doing anymore, so she was able to retreat into her head and get lost in her thoughts. It was nearly quitting time on Saturday, March 25th, 1911. Just

Kai knew something was wrong when his mother didn’t laugh at the joke. It was their joke. It had been for years. Every time it rained—which was rare enough in the climate-controlled sectors—one of them would say, “Remember when we got caught in that downpour at the pier?” The other would finish: “And you insisted we dance in it like idiots?” But when Kai said it that morning, watching the scheduled precipitation streak down their apartment’s single window—gray water against g

October 31, 1873 Dr. Elias Whitmore had always been different. In a small town like Field Park, where everyone knew everyone else's business, being different was dangerous. He had come to Wisconsin from the East Coast five years ago. He carried medical degrees from universities most folks had never heard of, some even from different countries. His knowledge made the local pastor nervous. While other doctors relied on prayer and bloodletting, Elias understood anatomy, disease,