The Pale Letter
You arrive at the gates of the Holloway Estate not on foot, but in a carriage that seems to have been waiting for you for a century. The wheels are silent, turning over gravel that has turned to dust, and the air outside the carriage window is thick with a fog that smells of wet iron and old paper. You are Maren, though no one here knows your name. You are simply the new Keeper, the woman who...
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