Kristina Claesson - Fiction

https://theoviebooks.wordpress.com/ Ingrid Långström lived on the kind of street where the wind always found its way through the gaps in your coat. Her little white house with its green shutters perched on the southern cliffside like a stubborn sea bird, weathering storms long after the others had moved inland. People in the village of Brantevik called her ordentlig, which meant tidy, dependable, and other things not said aloud. Ingrid preferred it that way. Her niece Freja, on the other han