The Golden Master
The fire started at dawn. It ate the east wing first. Then the library. Then the bed where Margaret slept. She woke to the smell of burning oak. She woke to the sound of screaming. She was still in her nightgown. She ran. The hallway was black. The air was thick with ash. She coughed. She felt the heat on her face. It burned. She pressed a wet rag to her mouth. She found the door. It was...
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