The Wistful Campus

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2026-08-24 03:59:59 -

The letter from the Oakhaven General Foundry sat on the kitchen table, its heavy cream paper weighed down by a brass paperweight shaped like a lion’s head. I signed it with a steady hand, the ink flowing dark and wet, sealing my fate before I had even packed my bag. My mother coughed in the next room, a dry, rattling sound that seemed to scrape against the plaster walls, and I held my breath...

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