The Wistful Witness

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2026-08-20 15:50:47 -

The house held its breath. It was a thing of stone and silence, standing on the hill like a judge waiting for the accused. I sat in the parlor, my hands resting on my knees, the leather of my gloves stiff against the cold. The clock on the mantel ticked. Tick. Tick. Tick. A metronome for the end of the world. My brother, Julian, was dead. Not dead yet. Not officially. But he was gone in the way...

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