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I remained silent, simply looking up at her, and she clicked her tongue in irritation.

“Well, since you’re here anyway, take this lamp.” She shoved the oil lamp she had been carrying into my hands. The lamp, filled with oil, was heavier than I expected. There were lighter gas lamps, but oil lamps lasted longer, and in this orphanage, everything was cheap.

The clothes we wore had been passed down through several orphans, stretched at the neck, frayed at the hems, and full ...

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