The Golden Harbor
The denial letter sat on the scarred oak desk, its edges crisp against the grime of the wood. You picked it up, the paper rough and dry under your thumb, and read the same three lines for the fourth time: *In the interest of institutional stability, the appeal for early release is denied.* The ink was black, stark against the white, a small, clean wound in the middle of the page. You were Elias...
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