The Distant Temple

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2026-08-19 09:15:14 -

The rain tapped against the windowpane of the interrogation room, a steady, rhythmic drumming that matched the beat of Arthur Penhaligon’s heart. He sat in the hard wooden chair, his hands cuffed to the table, staring at the small, bruised apple on the metal tray before him. It was the only object in the room that had not been moved, touched, or questioned. The air smelled of damp wool and...

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