The Faded Bouquet

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2026-08-17 19:31:01 -

The Faded Bouquet

The iron gate of Blackwood Manor did not creak. It groaned, a low, tectonic rumble that vibrated through the soles of my boots, a sound I had spent three years learning to distinguish from the settling of the foundation stones. I stood in the courtyard, the rain slicking my hair into my eyes, holding the heavy, lead-lined box against my chest. It was not a bouquet. It was a containment unit,...

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