The Velvet Butcher of Whitechapel

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2026-06-16 09:12:44 -

The fog rolled through Whitechapel like a living thing, thick and yellow with coal smoke and the stench of the Thames. Clara Mitchell pulled her shawl tighter and quickened her pace. The plague had taken her father six months ago, and her mother the month before that. Two more bodies from the workhouse, wrapped in sackcloth and thrown into a common pit. She had watched them lower the lids with...

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