The Glass Head of Blackwood Hall

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2026-06-19 23:59:23 -

I. The rain had been falling on Yorkshire for three days when Eileen Hartley arrived at Blackwood Hall. The carriage wheels sank into mud so deep the horses nearly stalled, and by the time the iron gates loomed through the mist, Eileen's fingers were white from gripping her mother's last shawl. Blackwood Hall was not a welcoming sight. The Victorian mansion rose from the moorland like a dark...

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