The Faded Portrait
The dream was always the same: St. Jude’s Institute, a monolithic slab of reinforced concrete and failing mortar, standing against a sky the color of a bruise, its windows like empty sockets staring out at a world that had forgotten it existed. Elara Vance woke with the taste of wet limestone in her mouth, the phantom weight of a steel beam pressing on her chest, and the absolute certainty that...
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