Previous chapter:
Chapter 207: The Last Gardener
Next chapter:
Chapter 209: A Familiar Ghost
PREVIEW
... ell, the warmth of the ceramic mug in his hands, the sharp jolt of caffeine. It was a simple, perfect, and utterly mundane miracle.
He sat in a small café on a corner he’d passed a thousand times without ever really seeing. Rain slicked the streets of his city, the real city, blurring the neon signs into a watercolor painting. People hurried by under umbrellas, their faces closed, their minds on their own small, important stories.
He looked at his phone again. The text was still ...
YOU MAY ALSO LIKE




























