The Wistful Dinner

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2026-08-19 21:03:40 -

The rain had not stopped for three days, a relentless, grey curtain that turned the cobblestones of Blackwood Hollow into a slick, treacherous mirror reflecting the dim, flickering lanterns of the manor house, where Thomas Bradshaw sat at the head of the long, oak table, his fingers wrapped tightly around a chalice that felt cold and heavy in his hands, a weight that seemed to anchor him to the...

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