The Wistful Petal
"You have the wrong number," the voice on the other end of the line said, though we were not connected by any wire, for we stood in the vast, silent rotunda of the Archive of Unwritten Histories, a place that existed only in the peripheral vision of the world and the deep, aching memory of those who had lost their way in the labyrinth of time. I stood before the great oak desk, my hands...
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