The Pale Garden

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2026-08-19 18:50:34 -

The Pale Garden

The iron gate of the Ashworth estate did not creak; it groaned, a low, tectonic shudder that seemed to rise from the very bedrock of the moor, warning of the slow, inevitable descent into the fog that perpetually clung to the valley floor like a shroud. Margaret stood before it, her fingers white-knuckled around the rusted iron bars, feeling the cold metal bite into her skin, a sensation that...

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