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ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴜᴩᴏɴ ᴀ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ | єναηﻭєℓιηє

ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴜᴩᴏɴ ᴀ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ | єναηﻭєℓιηє

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                   【CHAPTER EIGHT】

                         Time passed

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                         Time passed.
               Days cooled.
       Leaves changed.

Apple stands popped up on street corners, selling tarts and pies and
harvest treats.

Every time Evangeline walked by a stand and caught a hint
of its fruit-sweet scent, she’d think of Jacks and the debt she owed, and her
heart would race like a horse hoping to escape her chest.

          But it seemed
Jacks had forgotten about her, just as       Poison had said.

Luc never returned either, and the curiosity shop did not reopen.

Evangeline convinced Agnes to let her work in her father’s hidden
              bookstore.

  It wasn’t as magical as the curiosity shop, but it gave her something to look forward to.
Although some days she felt like one of the dusty used books on the store’s back shelves.

The volumes that had been
popular once, but no one picked up anymore.

She was still too well known for her stepmother to toss onto the streets,
but Evangeline feared it would happen one day.

The scandal sheets had
printed the rumor about her kiss turning gentlemen to stone.

Since then, her name only made brief, infrequent appearances.
Kutlass was starting to forget her, too,            just   as    Agnes      had      said.

But Evangeline refused to give up hope.
Her mother, Liana,
had grown up in the Magnificent North, and she had raised Evangeline on their fairytales.

In the North, fairytales and history were treated as one and the same
because their stories and histories were all cursed.

  Some tales couldn’t be written down without bursting into flames, others couldn’t leave the North, and many changed every time they were shared, becoming less and less real
         with every retelling.

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