The Distant Summer

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2026-08-18 16:42:32 -

The air in the sub-basement of the St. Jude’s Orphanage was not merely cold; it was a living, suspended weight that pressed against the lungs and settled in the marrow of the bones. It smelled of damp limestone, rotting oak, and the faint, metallic tang of the old gas lamps that flickered in the stagnant draft. Margaret sat on a bench that had been carved from a single, heavy slab of granite,...

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