The Pale Letter

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2026-08-20 17:02:13 -

The Pale Letter

The bell tolled midnight. It was a deep, wet sound, like a stone dropped into a frozen pond. I stood in the center of the stone hall. My hands were shaking. The parchment was cold in my grip. It was a letter. It was addressed to me. But I had not sent it. I am Margaret. I am the daughter of the Master. We live in the Old House. It is a place of shadows. The walls are thick. They hold the cold....

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