The Wistful Voyage
The ivy was eating the walls again. It was a slow, green devouring, a quiet violence that crept up the stone of St. Jude’s Academy with the patience of a thing that knows it has all the time in the world to finish its work. Julian Vane stood in the archive, his fingers stained with the dust of centuries, watching a tendril of the plant snake through the gap in the window frame and touch the...
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