The Pale Garden

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2026-08-19 01:06:33 -

The Pale Garden

The iron gates of Ashworth Manor had not rusted in three centuries, a fact that should have alarmed me far more than the silence within. I stood on the wet cobblestones, my breath hitching in the November air, watching the facade loom against a sky the color of bruised slate. I am a restorer of old things, a man who spends his days coaxing life back into cracked mahogany and shattered...

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