The Faded Bouquet

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2026-08-18 15:33:27 -

The Faded Bouquet

The cellar of the Halloway estate smelled of damp wool and old iron, a scent that had permeated the stone walls for three generations. It was a place of silence, broken only by the rhythmic drip of condensation from the vaulted ceiling. Here, in the suffocating dark, Arthur Halloway stood before the altar of his obsession. He was a man carved from the same stubborn granite as the house, his...

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