The Fractured Season
Chapter One The ship from Le Havre arrived on a Tuesday in October, which meant that New York was already grey and cold and smelling of coal smoke and low tide. Clara Beaumont stood on the dock at Whitehall Terminal with a wool shawl wrapped tight around her shoulders and a single envelope in her gloved hand—a letter from her aunt, aged and brittle, asking her to do one last thing for the...
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