The Wistful Skyline
The morning shift at St. Jude’s Federal Correctional Facility for Women began not with the clatter of steel or the barking of orders, but with the quiet, rhythmic shuffling of one hundred and forty pairs of worn canvas shoes against the concrete floor of the recitation hall, a sound that had long since ceased to be noise to Warden Elias Thorne and had instead become the ambient hum of his own...
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