The Faded Root

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2026-08-20 23:35:20 -

The Faded Root

The banquet hall was a throat. It swallowed the noise and spat out the smell of roasted goose and old money. Arthur Penhaligon stood by the punch bowl. He watched the ice melt. It was a small, cold war. The water dripped into the red liquid. A red stain grew. It looked like a root. It looked like blood. Arthur was a detective. Or he said he was. He wore a grey suit that did not fit his...

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