The Faded Shield

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2026-08-17 23:40:40 -

The Faded Shield

The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a grey curtain drawn tightly across the windows of the Whitmore estate. Eleanor Whitmore stood before the grand piano, her fingers resting on the keys, but she did not play. She was listening. Not to the storm, but to the silence that lived in the walls, in the heavy oak beams, in the dust that moted through the shafts of pale afternoon...

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