The Pale Tale
The heavy oak door of the Ashworth manor slammed shut behind Margaret, the sound echoing through the high, vaulted ceiling of the hallway like a gunshot. It was a sound of finality, a physical barrier between her and the life she had been promised, a life of silk sheets and cold silences. She stood in the center of the entryway, her hands trembling at her sides, feeling the draft from the open...
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