The Faded Paradox
The rain had been falling on the roof of the Ashworth manor for three days, a relentless, industrial drumming that seemed to vibrate through the very marrow of the house, a sound that was less an auditory sensation than a physical weight pressing down on my shoulders, a weight that I had carried for so long it had become indistinguishable from my own bone structure. I stood in the center of the...
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