The Faded Guest
The rain against the windowpane of the Hollis residence did not fall; it persisted, a gray curtain that blurred the boundary between the garden and the street, between the world outside and the suffocating stillness within. Margaret stood by the sink, her hands submerged in the soapy water, scrubbing a single plate with a force that seemed disproportionate to the task. The water had gone cold,...
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