The loud, desperate weeping of Chloe Sterling slowly faded into the cold stone walls of Cell Block C as night turned into a bright, beautiful morning. Far away from the dirty, damp walls of the state prison, the warm sun rose over the bustling city skyline, painting the sky in glorious shades of pink, orange, and liquid gold.

Down along the eastern riverbank, the vast five-acre site of the Sterling Memorial District was alive with incredible energy.

Hundreds of heavy yellow construction machines hummed together like a powerful, roaring motor engine. Giant bulldozers smoothed out the dark dirt ground, heavy concrete mixers turned continuously with loud mechanical chimes, and massive...