The Distant Ghost

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2026-08-19 01:30:01 -

The Distant Ghost

The hall was a cathedral of light, suspended in a void that defied the geometry of any known city. The air smelled of ozone and crushed lavender, a scent that Margaret Holloway had not encountered since her childhood in the damp valleys of the Cotswolds, yet which now permeated every breath she took. She stood on a balcony of white marble, overlooking a sea of guests who moved with the fluid,...

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