The Distant Garden
The storm broke the glass at dawn. It was not a gentle shattering. It was a violent, singular event. A pane of the large window in the study gave way, exploding inward into a web of glittering shards that fell across the floor like a frozen lake breaking up in spring. Professor Arthur Penhaligon stood in the center of the room, frozen. He did not flinch. He did not gasp. He simply looked at the...
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