The Golden Oath
The banquet hall of the Sterling Correctional Academy for Juvenile Delinquents was a cavern of cold marble and harsh fluorescent light, a place where the air smelled faintly of industrial polish and the old, stubborn scent of sweat that no amount of cleaning could scrub from the pores of the children who sat there. It was a Friday, and the high table was occupied by the staff, men and women in...
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