The Willow House Inheritance
The Willow House Inheritance The bread was stale. Cordie knew this because she had baked it herself—poor bread, dense and tough, the kind that makes you question every life choice that led you to a kitchen without proper yeast. But it was bread, and it was all she had, and when the man at the gate asked for it, she hesitated for exactly three seconds before throwing a slice through the rusted...
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