The Pale Verdict
The rain fell on the Blackwood Correctional courtyard in sheets of cold gray, turning the concrete into a slick, treacherous mirror that reflected the low, bruised sky. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood at the center of the yard, his uniform soaked through, his hands clasped behind his back in a posture of rigid, practiced stillness. He was not there for a drill, nor for a transfer, but for a verdict...
0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 1 Views 0 previzualizare