In New York, the clock struck midnight. The rain began to fall, its drops hitting the roofs of tall buildings hard, adding to the gloom of the dark night. In a far corner of the city, a federal building stood tall, its main gate slowly opening. The dim light of a streetlamp bounced off the puddles, highlighting the figure of a man stepping out with his head held high.Samuel Abraham.The man in his thirties did not look like a recently released prisoner. An expensive gray suit wrapped around his body, giving him an elegant appearance that contrasted with his long sentence. His face was clean, without a beard, and his brown hair was neatly combed. Next to him, an older man in a black suit matched his pace, clutching a heavy-looking leather briefcase.“Welcome back, Mr. Samuel,” the old man said in a respectful tone. This was Roland, the loyal attorney who had always stood by Samuel's side through the toughest of trials. Roland knew his client's dark side — the secrets that were never
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