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The price of A broken dream episode 4
  Prison did not begin for me the day I was sentenced. It began the morning the police knocked on my door. They were calm. Too calm. They asked my name, asked where I had been the night Olanshile died, asked questions that sounded simple but carried weight. I answered like an innocent man, but my voice betrayed me. Guilt has a sound. It cracks when you least expect it. At the station,...
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