The Wistful Campus
The banquet hall of St. Jude’s Institute for the Deaf and Dumb was a cathedral of copper and steam, a sealed iron lung breathing hot, savory air into the night. It was the annual Founder’s Feast, a ritual as rigid and unforgiving as the Victorian architecture that housed it. The smell of roasted lamb and reduction sauces hung thick, a physical weight that pressed against the skin. Elias Thorne...
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