The Wistful Mirror
The glass did not break; it shattered, a violent exhalation of crystal that scattered across the oak floor of the parlor like a constellation of frozen tears. It was not an accident of clumsiness, but a failure of containment, a structural collapse in the very fabric of the household’s reality. Silas Vane stood amidst the glittering ruin, his hands raised in a posture of surrender that looked,...
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