Winter on the Cobbler’s Row
It started with paperwork. That is how these things start, most of the time. Not with a spark or a glance across a crowded room or a line of poetry whispered in the dark. With a form. A document. A checkbox that needs to be marked. Maeve O'Connor was at the clinic picking up Sophie's prescription — the generic version, because the brand name cost six dollars more — when the receptionist...
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