The Wistful Letter

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2026-08-18 19:43:03 -

The ferns in the atrium of the St. Jude’s Orphanage administrative wing had grown so thick that they formed a green, breathing wall against the glass, their fronds uncurling in the damp, stale air with a slow, deliberate grace that seemed to mock the frantic, paper-shredding energy of the human beings who worked in the offices beyond; Margaret sat at her desk, the one with the cracked veneer...

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