The Faded Guest
The town of Ashford sat in the valley like a broken tooth, white and jagged against the dark earth. It was a place of stone and silence, where the air tasted of iron and old rain. Eleanor Vance lived in the house at the end of the lane, a structure of grey mortar that had begun to lean inward, as if trying to hide from the sky. She was a woman of forty, though she carried herself with the...
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