The Wistful Silence

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2026-08-19 05:16:12 -

The carriage shuddered. I gripped the strap. My hand shook. Not from cold. From fear. We were late. The sun was low. It bled red across the field. The house stood ahead. Black wood. White windows. It waited. It had always waited. I was a man of facts. I believed in cause and effect. A crime. A motive. A body. I did not believe in ghosts. I did not believe in curses. I believed in evidence. My...

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