The Distant Affair
In the grey, rain-slicked streets of the old quarter, where the cobblestones wore smooth as river stones under the weight of centuries, Margaret Holloway stood before the door of the apothecary, her breath misting in the cold air. She did not knock. She simply waited, her fingers trembling not from the chill, but from the terrible, heavy silence that had settled within her chest, a silence that...
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