The East End Hub
The network had been running for eleven years. Rose McAllister did not know it in those terms. She was forty-six years old, living in a one-bedroom flat in Whitechapel, and she thought of her life not as a network but as a list of names: people she knew, people who knew her, people who owed her things and people she owed things to, and the invisible web of obligations that connected them all...
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