The Faded Apartment
The rain had been falling on the manor house for three days, a persistent, gray curtain that blurred the edges of the grounds until the world beyond the glass walls seemed to dissolve into a damp, indistinct memory. Inside the conservatory, where the air was thick with the scent of wet stone and wilting orchids, Elias Thorne sat in a high-backed chair, his hands resting on his knees, fingers...
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