The Faded Chronicle
The glass broke before the sun had fully cleared the rooftops of Harrowgate, a sound like a scream cut short, shattering the delicate silence of the mill town. It was not a window, nor a wine glass, but the mirror in the hallway of the boarding house, the one that had reflected Margaret’s face for twenty years. The shards scattered across the hardwood floor, a constellation of jagged teeth, and...
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