The Faded Apartment
The rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a suspended grey mist that clung to the windowpanes of the apartment like a living breath, blurring the city into a smear of neon and ash. Margaret Holloway stood in the center of the living room, her fingers tracing the cold, damp air, feeling for the residue of a presence that should not have existed. The apartment was a tomb of silence, a sealed...
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