The Wistful Letter
The rain hit the asphalt of the Blackwood Correctional courtyard with a rhythmic, hollow slap, drumming against the high chain-link fence that separated the world outside from the sterile concrete within. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood under the meager overhang of the guard post, his uniform soaked through, the water running in dark rivulets down his neck and into the collar of his shirt. He was...
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