The Golden Oath
The rain had not stopped for three days, turning the grounds of St. Jude’s into a viscous, brown mirror that reflected the gray, leaden sky with a fidelity that felt less like nature and more like a slow, suffocating embrace. Inside the main hall, the air was thick with the scent of wet wool, old paper, and the faint, metallic tang of the industrial dehumidifiers that hummed in the corners like...
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