The Pale Mist
The rain had not stopped in three days, a gray, ceaseless curtain that blurred the edges of the town of Oakhaven and turned the school corridors into a labyrinth of wet concrete and echoing silence. Elara sat in the back of Room 4B, her posture rigid, her hands folded tightly in her lap where they rested on the smooth, cold surface of the desk. Beside her lay the object of her obsession, the...
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