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Chapter 295: The Weaver
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Chapter 297: Quiet Retribution
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... ne. Her eyes fell on her mother’s wrist, purple splotches peeking from under her sleeve.
The little girl took a few deep breaths, shifting uncomfortably underneath her wool cloak. The incoming winter had demanded heavier clothes but the girl was feeling its weight more than usual.
Regaining her breath, she called out again, louder.
“Mama!”
“What? What is it, dear?”
The mother finally looked back, her own breath laborious. Her face was worn despite her youn ...
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