The Faded Attic
The train hissed against the iron tracks like a dying snake, exhaling a plume of grey steam that curled into the wet, heavy air of the Scottish Highlands, and Elara Vance stepped onto the platform with her suitcase clutched tight against her chest, the leather straps biting into her palms, her breath misting in the cold dampness that seemed to seep straight through the wool of her coat and into...
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