The Wistful Petal
Do you know what it feels like to hold a life in your hands and watch it leak out through your fingers? I did not know, not until the storm took the power and the light in the workshop went from a steady, industrial yellow to the sickly, flickering amber of the emergency lamps, leaving me alone with the broken thing on my bench. I am Ivana Ionescu, twelve years old, an apprentice in the...
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