The Wistful Voyage
Luigi Grieco, thirty-two, stood at the banquet table of the magistrate’s estate, his hand trembling as he signed the confession for a man who did not commit the crime. The Weight of the Ink The pen felt like a bone in my grip. Across the table, Magistrate Salvi smiled, his teeth white against the dimness of the habitat module. I wanted to protect my sister’s family from eviction. I wanted the...
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