The Wistful Petal
The loom’s shuttle screamed through the air, a high-pitched whine that cut through the thick, sulfurous haze of the mill floor, and Elias Thorne gripped the iron railing of the inspection platform until his knuckles turned the color of old bone, his mind a chaotic tangle of arithmetic and dread as he calculated the exact number of days remaining before the bank would seize the family home. He...
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