The Gilded Cage of Grief

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2026-06-02 01:41:15 -

The fog of late November clung to the eaves of Blackwood Manor like a damp shroud, mirroring the oppressive silence that had settled over the house since Arthur’s lungs began to fail. Arthur, once the proud master of the estate, was now a skeletal remnant of a man, confined to a mahogany bed in the east wing. His breath came in ragged, wet gasps, a rhythmic reminder of the decay consuming him...

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