The rain fell on London like a curse, cold and relentless, and...

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2026-05-25 13:39:07 -

The rain fell on London like a curse, cold and relentless, and Thomas Ashworth died beneath it.

He remembered the orphanage fire—the screaming, the smoke, the way the wooden beams groaned like dying animals. He had been forty-five years old, an administrator who had spent his entire life caring for children who had nowhere else to go. He had run back into the burning building for the youngest one, the girl with the brown eyes who couldn't walk, and the roof had collapsed. Then he opened...

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