The Distant Whispers
The silence of the shipyard was not empty, but heavy, a physical weight that pressed against Tadhg Delaney’s eardrums even now, eight years later. He remembered the haze, thick enough to make the far shore a rumor, a grey smear where the light died before it could find solid ground. It was the winter of his twelve-year-old year, the year the debt swallowed his mother whole. He had walked the...
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