Whisper of paris

ied a worn satchel slung over his shoulder, his sketchpad peeking

Clara asked, falling

aris has its secrets, and I th

behind an old iron gate, its walls adorned with faded murals and graffiti. The art told stories of love, rebellion, a

sser-known corners of the city: a rooftop garden overlooking the Seine, a tiny bakery with the

lled out his sketchpad and began drawing

Not the one in guidebooks-the one

the city-and Julien-