The winter of 1922 had come early to County Cork, wrapping the hills in a blanket of gray that match
The winter of 1922 had come early to County Cork, wrapping the hills in a blanket of gray that matched the mood of the entire country. Mary O'Brien pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders as she walked the muddy track from the village to the cottage where old Mrs. Murphy lay dying. The path was slick with ice, and her boots, thin and worn, offered little protection from the cold that...
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