The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-17 17:12:17 -

The Wistful Petal

The mortar round hit the corner of the Saint Jude’s Hotel three seconds before I did. I was running. My boots slammed against the cobblestones, slick with rain and something darker, something that smelled of iron and old blood. The explosion didn’t make a sound at first. It just took the air out of the street. Then the shockwave hit me in the chest, a physical punch that folded me double. I...

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