The Wistful Crossroads
Do you remember what it cost to keep a secret? Chapter One The grey had settled into the cracks of the slate hills outside the clinic, a damp that seeped into the marrow and refused to leave. I stood in the queue, my hands wrapped around a tin of coins, the metal cold and rough against my skin. The tin held the wages of a month that had not yet paid my rent, a small, jagged weight that felt...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews