The Golden Harbor
The house on the hill had been waiting for silence for so long that it had begun to resemble a grave, its white clapboard siding peeling in long, sunburned strips that hung like the flayed skin of a beast. Elara Vance stood on the porch, her hands gripping the rotting railing until her knuckles turned the color of old bone, watching the town of Oakhaven stretch out below her in a patchwork of...
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