Inside the Wall
The key turned. The door opened. Light fell across the floorboards in a pale rectangle, and David Cross stood in it for a moment, letting it illuminate the dust on the shelves, the water stains on the ceiling, the small potted plant on the windowsill that he had remembered to water that morning. He locked the door behind him. He walked to the plant. He checked the soil. It was dry. He watered...
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