The Distant Clue
The ivy had taken the manor. It was not a gentle conquest, but a slow, suffocating embrace that gripped the stone walls of Blackwood Hall with the tenacity of a lover who would not accept rejection. Elias Thorne stood at the window of his cell, a small, damp room at the edge of the estate, and watched the green tendrils crawl over the glass. He did not see a plant. He saw a self. He was the...
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