The Faded Portrait

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2026-08-19 13:11:43 -

The rain had been falling on the granite steps of the Department of Corrections for six hours, a relentless, gray curtain that blurred the distinction between the wet asphalt and the stone. You stood in the vestibule, your hands clasped behind your back, the leather of your gloves creaking softly with each micro-movement. The air inside was thick, recycled through HVAC systems that hummed with...

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