The Letter Came on a Tuesday
The letter arrived on a Tuesday, wrapped in oilcloth to ward off the Manchester rain, delivered by a boy no older than twelve who refused to meet Jem O'Malley's eyes. Jem knew what it said before he broke the seal. He had seen the handwriting on the envelope—neat, precise, the kind of handwriting that came from years of punching holes in cards with mechanical precision. The letter told him that...
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