The Faded Guest

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2026-08-16 11:47:44 -

The Faded Guest

The rain had been falling on the manor house for three days, or perhaps three weeks—time had a way of dissolving in places like this, where the walls were too thick and the corridors too long. Margaret Whitfield sat in the morning room, a cup of tea gone cold beside her elbow, watching the garden through rain-streaked windows. The rose garden her father had planted forty years ago was drowning...

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