The Shadow in the Loom

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2026-05-31 03:15:39 -

The rain in Blackwood did not fall; it descended like a heavy, soot-stained shroud, clinging to the brick tenements and the shivering souls within. Eileen sat in the dim light of a single tallow candle, her fingers raw and bleeding from fourteen hours at the loom. Beside her, five-year-old Leo slept in a nest of rags, his breathing shallow, his small face pale as the fog that rolled off the...

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