The Pale Shadows
The bell tower cracked. Not with a sound, but with a silence that swallowed the town of Oakhaven. It was a Tuesday. The sky was the color of old bruises. Margaret sat in her kitchen. She held the mirror. It was cold. It was pale. It did not reflect her face. It reflected the window. It reflected the street. It reflected the rain. Margaret was an outsider. She had come from the south. She had...
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