The Wistful Mirror
The wind did not howl, or rather, it did not howl in the manner that one expects from a force of nature, but rather it whispered, a low, continuous, and sibilant sound that seemed to emanate from the very stones of the chapel, a sound that Margaret Holloway had come to know as intimately as the texture of her own skin, a sound that filled the silence of the nave and pressed against her ears...
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