The Faded Bouquet

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2026-08-20 22:44:01 -

The Faded Bouquet

I woke with the taste of iron and crushed lavender on my tongue, the phantom scent clinging to the back of my throat like a stubborn lover who refuses to leave the room. It was the old dream again, the one where the chandeliers in the Grand Hall of St. Jude’s were not made of crystal but of frozen tears, and the floorboards groaned under the weight of secrets that had been buried for three...

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