The Wistful Mirror

bir ses eklendi Literature

2026-08-18 15:04:12 -

The rain had not stopped in three days, turning the moors behind the estate into a bruised purple sludge that smelled of wet iron and rotting heather. Silas Thorne stood at the window of the library, his reflection ghosted against the glass, a pale specter trapped in the heavy velvet curtains. He was looking for a lie, or so he told himself. But the glass offered him only his own aging face,...

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