The Summer Bloom
The Summer BloomThe gas lamps flickered as Eleanor stepped from the carriage, her boots sinking into the soot-darkened cobblestones of Waterloo Street. She held the wicker basket with one hand and Lily's small, bundled form against her chest with the other. The child, three years old and silent as a shadow, stared up at the towering smokestacks with wide, frightened eyes. London was nothing...
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