The Wistful Campus
The iron gates of St. Jude’s Academy groaned open as the autumn mist settled over the cobblestones, a sound like the clearing of a throat before a long, difficult confession. You stood there, your small hands gripping the rusted bars, watching the figure of your older brother, Thomas, walk away into the grey expanse of the courtyard. He did not look back. That was the first thing you noticed,...
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