The Iron Blood
Part One The fog clung to Whitechapel like a shroud on the night Mr. Holloway found Thomas. The boy was twelve, shivering in the doorway of St. Jude's Orphanage, his ribs showing through a shirt that had been white once. Holloway wore a coat of dark wool and carried an umbrella though it did not rain. He watched Thomas for three days before approaching him—not with kindness, but with a...
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