The growl of the bulldozer was a promise of death.
Rowan Finch stood with her arms locked, her body forming a flimsy, human barricade in front of the garden’s wrought-iron gate.
Everything about this was wrong.
The Prince of Concrete and Ivy
The growl of the bulldozer was a promise of death.
Rowan Finch stood with her arms locked, her body forming a flimsy, human barricade in front of the garden’s wrought-iron gate.
Everything about this was wrong.