The Anvil of Hope
The war had taken everything from Thomas Mercer except his hands. Even that was a mercy. Without hands, a man cannot work the forge. Without a left leg, he cannot walk more than a few paces without the crutch and the wooden prosthetic that chafed until it bled. But his hands—his hands were still strong. Calloused from years of hammering iron before the war, before the Somme, before the world...
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