The Golden Echoes
The rain in the valley of Oakhaven did not fall so much as it hung, a persistent, wet gray curtain that smothered the stone cottages and the ancient oaks whose roots had long since strangled the foundations of the houses built beneath them, creating a damp, subterranean darkness that seeped up through the floorboards and into the marrow of those who lived there, a chill that no hearth fire...
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