The Golden Myth
"Did you break it?" The voice cut through the silence of the attic like a blade of ice. It was not a question, but a demand. Margaret did not turn from the window. The glass was cold against her cheek. Outside, the town of Oakhaven lay in the grip of an early winter frost. The rooftops were white. The streetlamps had just flickered on, casting long, trembling shadows across the snow. "Yes," she...
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