The Golden Oath
The floorboards groaned under my weight. I knew the house. I knew the creaks. I knew the draft under the door. But I did not know what lay beneath the plaster. "Stop it," Elias said. His voice was thin. Taut. "Put the chisel down." "I have to," I replied. My hands were steady. They had to be. "It’s a trap." "It is a wall, Margaret." "It is a lie." We stood in the center of the parlor. The...
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