The Wistful Campus
The rain did not fall so much as it settled, a heavy, persistent mist that clung to the ancient, moss-eaten stones of the University of St. Jude’s, a place where time had long since ceased to move in a straight line and instead pooled in the corners of the quadrangle like stagnant water. Elara Vance, a woman whose skin had begun to take on the translucent, waxy quality of a leaf left too long...
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