The Faded River

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2026-08-17 06:54:54 -

The Faded River

The room smells of damp wool and old paper, a scent that has settled into the plaster like a stain you cannot scrub out. You are sitting in a chair that creaks when you shift your weight, and you are trying to remember why you are here, though you know the answer is already written on your hands, in the calluses and the grime that refuses to wash away. You are Margaret. You are the daughter of...

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