The visitors' conference facility at the Metropolitan Correctional Center in Lower Manhattan was stark, functional, and quiet. Gray concrete walls and heavy wire-reinforced glass windows overlooked the damp courtyard where autumn drizzle fell softly against the asphalt. Sitting at the laminate conference table, wearing a dark navy wool suit and a cream silk blouse, Ava Montgomery waited with Julian Cross by her side. The steel door clicked open, and a…
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