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... e, her shoes crunching over red gravel.
Children raced across the courtyard, their shirts half-untucked, their laughter echoing between the walls like wind catching music. A few girls sat in the shade, braiding each other’s hair while reading from thin, locally printed books.
There were no guards. No security cameras. But everything felt watched — not in a paranoid way, but as if the space itself respected those who entered. She paused just inside the courtyard, eyes scanning eve ...
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