The Distant Blade
The atrium of St. Jude’s Orphanage is a cathedral of grey concrete and cold light, a space designed to make you feel small before you have even opened your mouth. You are twelve years old, and in your left pocket, the silver spoon you stole from the dining hall presses against your thigh like a shard of ice. It is not a weapon, not yet, but it is the only thing in your body that belongs to you,...
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