The Golden Oath
The gavel struck the mahogany block with a sound like a bone snapping. It was a dry, sharp crack that echoed in the high vaulted ceiling of the Supreme Court. The air inside was stale, recycled through vents that hummed with a low, indifferent drone. Leo sat in the gallery, his knees pressed together, his hands white-knuckled on his lap. He was twelve years old. His blazer was too big. The...
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