Unseen War Book 1 & Book2

The morning fog rolled over the Thames like a half-forgottensecret, curling through the streets of London with a damp chillthat clung to my designer coat. I tugged it tighter around myshoulders, the cashmere brushing my wrists with deliberatesoftness, a small luxury against the city's sharp edges. From myvantage atop the terrace café in Kensington, the city shimmeredin muted golds and silvers, as if it were holding its breath forsomething it hadn't yet named.I sipped the last of my lavender latte, feeling the warmth bloomthrough my fingers into my chest. Everything smelled of rainand polished stone, of espresso and leather. I watched a deliveryman dodge puddles with the agility of someone who had longago learned to anticipate London's moods. Life had alwaysfelt like a delicate choreography here, a series of decisions andglances that, if made right, kept you floating just above thechaos. I liked it that way. I liked control.