The Pale Letter
The house was loud with the smell of roasted goose and the clatter of silver on porcelain, a cacophony that seemed to vibrate in the bones of everyone who lingered in the dining room of the Ashworth estate. It was a gathering of such excessive, gluttonous joy that it bordered on the grotesque, a feast designed to drown out the silence that had begun to settle into the corners of the walls over...
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