The Pale Door
The door was pale. It stood in the center of the room, a slab of bone-white wood that had never seen the sun. It did not lead to a hallway. It did not lead to a garden. It led nowhere. "Is it locked?" Elias asked. His voice was rough. It scraped against the silence of the space. Mara did not answer. She stood by the window. The glass was thick and clouded. Outside, the fog rolled in like a...
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