The Faded Attic
The rain had not stopped for three days, a ceaseless, grey curtain that turned the world outside the stone walls of the Holloway manor into a blurred watercolor of mud and lichen. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of damp wool, old paper, and the metallic tang of fear that seemed to cling to the fabric of the curtains. Elias stood by the window, his hands clasped behind his back,...
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