<p>Part One</p>

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2026-06-03 06:02:27 -

Part One

The fog over Whitechapel had a taste to it—something between coal smoke and regret. Edgar Thorne knew it well. Three years on the Thames, three years of salt air and worse company, and he could taste a storm coming in the wind better than any weatherman in the City. But this fog was different. It was heavier. It pressed against his coat like a hand. He sat in the back room of a pawnbroker's...

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