The Golden Scar
The rain had been falling for three days straight, a cold, gray sheet that blurred the edges of the city and turned the streets into muddy rivers, and I stood in the center of the detention block, my hands bound behind my back with the cold, unyielding grip of magnetic cuffs, listening to the heavy, rhythmic thud of boots on the wet concrete, feeling the familiar, aching pull in my chest that...
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