Five hundred forty-nine

theirs, not hers.Outside, the rain had lessened to a drizzle, pattering against the window and casting a hazy glow. A small pot of lily-of-the-valley, nestled by the window, was blooming quietly, its...w growl, the boy began to practice his martial arts routine.Every move, every strike, coming from his small arms and legs, should have been childish, yet it exuded a beauty of power that couldn't be i...