The Distant Whispers
The hum of the ventilation system in the basement archive of St. Jude’s Orphanage was not merely a sound but a physical pressure, a low-frequency vibration that Margaret Holloway felt in her molars, a constant, grinding reminder of the machinery that kept the air breathable and the secrets contained, while she sat at her mahogany desk, surrounded by the dry, brittle scent of decaying paper and...
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