The Distant Ghost
The fire did not start with a spark but with a scream, a high-pitched wail that tore through the velvet silence of the Grand Hall at Blackwood Manor. It was a sound that belonged to the wild, to the things that lived in the woods behind the estate, yet it came from the mouth of the Duke’s own son, a boy of ten years who stood in the center of the room holding a glass of red wine. The liquid...
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