The Golden Quest
You arrive at the house of Margaret Holloway in the grey hour before dawn, the kind of silence that presses against the eardrums like deep water. The vehicle sputters to a halt on the gravel drive, the engine coughing its last breaths into the cold air, and you sit there for a long moment, your hands gripping the steering wheel until the knuckles turn white. You are a prisoner of your own...
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