The Distant Clue

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2026-08-20 15:02:55 -

The Distant Clue

The rain hit the tin roof. It was a relentless drumming. I sat by the fire. My hands shook. I held the tin cup. The tea was cold. "Are you well, Thomas?" I looked up. Margaret stood in the doorway. Her face was pale. Her eyes were red. "I am fine, Meg." You lie. I know you lie. She walked to the table. She poured more tea. The water was dark. It swirled in the cup. "You have been in the cellar...

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