In winter, the small fishing village was cold and quiet, like a child forgotten by the world. In the dark of the night, heavy snow silently fell. The wind blew outside the window. Daisy knew that it was another sleepless night. The old-fashioned clock in the room was ticking, which was particularly abrupt in the quiet night. Daisy pulled the quilt over her body and curled up in the corner. She held the funeral portrait of her grandmother in her arms. Although she had lit a fire, the brick bed was not warm at all, which made her feel extremely chill. Daisy looked around without any extra emotions. It was not until there was a roar in the next room that she was a little surprised. She knew that there was a person living next door, a person who lived in a drunken stupor all day long. Unfortunately, that person was her uncle. Daisy's uncle, Sloan Steed, was 43 years old, but he still hadn't gotten married. He drank and gambled all day long, and Daisy's grandmother's
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