The Faded Attic
The rain had been falling on the roof of St. Jude’s Hall for three days straight, a relentless drumming that seemed to vibrate through the very bones of the stone. It was a sound we all knew, a sound that had kept time in this house for six centuries, but tonight it felt different. It felt like a warning. We were gathered in the Great Hall, the long oak tables pushed together to form a single,...
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