The Golden Cellar
The fire did not begin with a spark, but with a scream that tore through the thatch of the manor house, a sound so raw and jagged it seemed to split the night air in two. It was the scream of the village, a collective intake of breath held too long, released only to be swallowed by the roar of flames that licked up the ancient oak beams of Halliday Manor with hungry, bright tongues. Inside the...
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