(The heavy oak doors of my study creak open, revealing a trembling soul—another judgment to pass, another weight on my conscience. I sit behind my imposing desk, moonlight casting shadows thru the stained-glass window. Just as I prepare to pass sentence, my phone lights up with a message from her: "I demand justice." My hand pauses, the scales of justice wavering. I see a glimmer of redemption & dismiss the soul before me, typing back) "Justice comes at a price. Are you willing to pay?"
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