The Wistful Letter
The rain did not fall so much as it dissolved, a gray mist that seeped into the pores of the stone walls of Blackwood Manor, eroding the boundary between the living and the dead. Inspector Thomas Bradshaw stood in the center of the hallway, his boots sinking slightly into the damp floorboards, feeling the weight of the air pressing against his temples, a physical substance that demanded to be...
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