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Maya’s brow furrowed. “Who are you?”
Outside, the gutters sang again, and inside, the little top kept its quiet watch — a tiny promise that some stories, with patient hands, could be spun back whole. maya jackandjill top
“You can set things right,” the woman told Maya. “When a jack-and-jill top falls, it tips more than wood and paint — it tips stories. We spin them back into balance.” Maya’s brow furrowed