The Distant Summer
The heat in the dormitory of St. Jude’s was a physical weight, a thick, sulfurous blanket that pressed against the back of the neck and made the air taste of stale sweat and old paper. I remember the day the fire started not as a disaster, but as a release, a sudden, violent unraveling of the tension that had been tightening around my ribs for three years. "You must understand," said Sister...
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