The Golden Greenhouse

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2026-08-19 22:09:27 -

The door was locked. It had been locked for three days. Margaret stood in the hallway of the Whitmore estate, her knuckles white against the brass handle. She did not try to force it. She never did. The house breathed around her, a vast, decaying lung filled with dust and the scent of stale tea. The wallpaper peeled in long, brown strips, like dead skin. She watched them curl. She watched them...

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