The Thirteenth Candle
The Thirteenth CandleThe plate was still warm.Eleanor Ashworth stood in the dining room for a full minute before touching it. She lifted her hand, hovered it above the porcelain, felt the faint but unmistakable heat radiating upward through the air. Steam curled from the Earl Grey as though someone had poured it three minutes ago. Perhaps five.But the chair was empty. The chair had been empty...
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