The Wistful Witness

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2026-08-21 21:51:05 -

The air in the atrium of the St. Jude’s Correctional Facility for Juvenile Offenders tasted of copper and old paper. It was a sterile, recycled breath that had been scrubbed of humidity but not of tension. I stood at the end of the long, curved desk, my hands resting flat on the cold laminate, watching the fluorescent lights flicker in a rhythmic, arrhythmic stutter. Across from me sat Elias...

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