The Distant Temple
The morning light fell across the floorboards of the manor house with a precision that felt architectural, slicing through the dust motes that hung suspended in the air like frozen debris. Margaret Holloway stood before the full-length mirror, her hand resting lightly on the glass, a gesture that was as much a test of its integrity as it was a contemplation of her own reflection. She was...
0 Commentarios 0 Acciones 4 Views 0 Vista previa