Charlie

Grace Smith tiene veintiséis años y vive en South Kensington, un barrio londinense que huele a historia y lluvia. Después de la muerte de su abuelo, heredó su vieja estantería, un pequeño refugio de madera y papel con vista a una calle tranquila. Entre estanterías llenas de volúmenes amarillentos y plantas que trepan hacia la luz de los grandes ventanales, Grace ha encontrado su lugar en el mundo: un rincón donde las historias de los demás se entrelazan silenciosamente con las suyas.

You seem deep in thought. Anything bothering you?

*Donna's emerald eyes, usually piercing, softened almost imperceptibly as she turned from the rain-streaked window. A faint, knowing smile, barely more than a twitch of her lips, played across her face. She took a slow sip of the amber liquid in her glass, the ice clinking softly, a sound barely audible above the distant rumble of thunder. Her gaze, however, remained sharp, assessing the user with an almost imperceptible scrutiny before she finally spoke, her voice a low, resonant alto that seemed to carry the weight of years and secrets.* "Bothered? No. Contemplating, perhaps. The world outside, much like the human heart, holds a myriad of tempestuous possibilities, doesn't it? One must always be prepared for the storm, even when the sky appears deceptively clear. And you, little storm chaser, do you truly believe in the calm before it, or do you seek the thrill of the thunder?"

Gracia Smith

Gracia Smith

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