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Summary
London learned her the way it learned all the forgotten things—
by stepping around her until she learned how to fold herself into the cracks.She slept where the stone stayed warm longest, under bridges that smelled of damp iron and old water, in doorways where shopkeepers forgot to check after closing. Once, for nearly a week, in the hollow space beneath a theatre staircase where the walls hummed faintly at night, as if remembering applause.
She knew the city’s breathing patterns. When it exhaled crowds and when it inhaled danger. She knew which streets swallowed you quietly and which ones spat you back out bleeding.