The Cold Weight of Iron: A Story of Broken Chains, Rusted Knuckles, and the Price of Honor
CHAPTER 1: THE WEIGHT OF THE FLOOR The concrete beneath Miller’s knees was cold, the kind of deep, institutional chill that seeped straight through the fabric of his OCP trousers and bit into the bone. Above him, the fluorescent tubes of the off-hours gym hummed a steady, maddening B-flat. The scent of old sweat, floor…