The Wistful Campus

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 02:49:34 -

The rain drummed against the high, arched windows of the Whitmore estate, a rhythmic, hollow sound that seemed to hollow out the walls themselves. Inside, the air was still and cold, smelling of damp wool and the faint, metallic tang of old paper. Elias Whitmore stood before the grand mirror in the hallway, his hands clasped behind his back, his posture rigid as a blade. He was a large man,...

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