The Golden Echoes
The rain fell on the slate roof of St. Jude’s Orphanage in long, unbroken sheets, a grey curtain that blurred the world outside into a smear of mud and dead leaves. Inside the dormitory, the air was thick with the scent of damp wool and the faint, sweet rot of the soup that had been served for dinner three hours prior. Thomas sat on the edge of his narrow bed, his knees drawn up to his chest,...
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