The Distant Crown
The signature is missing, Officer Thorne. The warden’s voice was flat, stripped of any inflection that might suggest apology or even irritation. He sat behind a desk of polished oak that looked out of place in the concrete bunker of the Blackwater Detention Center, the wood gleaming under the harsh, buzzing hum of the electric lamps. I stood in front of him, my uniform still damp from the...
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