The Wistful Witness

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2026-08-17 11:46:02 -

The house at the end of Grafton Street had not been a home for a decade, but a monument to absence, standing with the rigid, hollow pride of a skeleton stripped of its flesh. It was a Victorian edifice of dark brick and iron, its windows like blind eyes staring out at the grey, rain-slicked pavement of the American Midwest, where the wind carried the scent of wet leaves and impending winter....

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