The Distant Summer

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2026-08-21 13:47:55 -

The iron gate shrieked against the frost, a sound like a bone snapping in the dark, and I was already bleeding before I had crossed the threshold of the Whitmore estate. The blood was not mine. It seeped from the cracks in the cobblestones, from the roots of the ancient oaks, from the very mortar of the walls, a thick, arterial red that defied the winter chill. I stood in the courtyard, my...

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