The Wistful Dinner

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2026-08-20 18:06:00 -

The cellar door swung shut with a finality that felt like a coffin lid. Margaret did not look back. She stood in the hallway, the cold air of the house biting through her thin wool dress. The lamp on the table flickered. Dust motes danced in the amber light. They were silent witnesses. They had seen too much. Her hands trembled. She pressed them against her thighs. The wood of the banister was...

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