Eventually, the glow of a candle moved back and forth behind the curtained windows, the shadow carrying it too distant to identify, and the morning titter and chatter of children followed as the shop lamps were lit. Hands pulled back the curtains and then a woman’s face, round and smiling, rimmed with blonde tucked beneath a cap that allowed stray tendrils to hang free, glanced up and down the street as though expecting to see something she did not want to see. Kes. Zerio’s heart sored to see she had survived and had, if the sounds around her were accurate, built a family to fill in the lonely hole Claes-Arne’s death had left.
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Kes.
Zerio’s heart sored to see she had survived and had, if the sounds around her were accurate, built a family to fill in the lonely hole Claes-Arne’s death had left.
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