The Distant Summer
The house at the end of the cul-de-sac was not merely a structure of brick and mortar, but a living organism that breathed in the humid air of the late summer and exhaled a silence so profound it felt like a physical weight pressing against the eardrums. Elara stood in the center of the grand foyer, her feet bare on the cold slate, watching the dust motes dance in the single shaft of light that...
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