The Wistful Cipher

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2026-08-20 09:30:58 -

The iron gates of the Ashwood Institute for Juvenile Correction stood open, a gaping maw of rusted steel that breathed cold, wet air into the night. I stood before them, my hands trembling not from the chill of the November wind but from the violent, rhythmic pounding of my own heart, which seemed to have taken on a life of its own, a frantic drumbeat that echoed the distant, grinding roar of...

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