The Faded Ruin
The house breathed. That was the only way Elias Vane could describe it. It was not the settling of old timber, nor the whistle of wind through the eaves of the manor he had inherited from his estranged uncle, a man whose name had become a whisper in the local parish records. No, the house of Oakhaven exhaled a low, rhythmic hum that seemed to vibrate in the marrow of Elias’s bones, a sound like...
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