The Faded Photograph

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2026-08-18 20:19:16 -

The banquet hall of the Whitmore estate was a cathedral of gaslight and dust. The air hung heavy with the scent of roasted pheasant and stale lavender, a perfume that clung to the velvet drapes and the polished mahogany of the long tables. Margaret sat at the far end, her spine rigid against the high-backed chair, watching the candle flames dance in the draft that seeped through the cracked...

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