The Distant Temple
Chapter One In the industrial North of the 1840s, the weight of a man’s debt was measured in the hours he spent bending over looms until his spine curved like a bow. Ana Zuzarte knew this weight better than her own body, for it had eaten through the walls of her family’s small house on seventy-one of Stonecutter Alley until the plaster dusted her work like snow. She was forty, a weaver of...
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