The Golden Oath
The house did not fall; it dissolved. One moment, the walls were solid timber and plaster, holding the weight of a century of silence. The next, they were dust, drifting in the cold October air like the ash of a burnt letter. Clara stood in the center of the ruin, her hands still raised as if she had been shielding her face from the blast, though there had been no explosion. Only a sudden,...
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