PREVIEW

... warm whisper. The soft earth pressed beneath their boots as Billy and Artur made their way back toward the shed. The familiar hum of village life drifted in from the distance—children laughing, a wheelbarrow creaking, birds weaving their morning melodies.

Billy clutched the notebook close, flipping it open again as they walked.

"Okay," he said, scanning the page, "first up: tools. Your dad mentioned checking the ones left behind the east side of the shed."

Artur nodded. " ...

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