The Golden Oath
The house stood like a broken tooth in the mouth of the valley, its white siding peeling in long, sunburned strips that curled back to reveal the dark, rotting wood beneath. It was a place of echoes and dust, a structure that had once housed the grandeur of the Ashworth family and now held only the heavy, stagnant air of memory. Julian Ashworth stood on the porch, his fingers tracing the grain...
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