The Golden Ritual
The bell rang. It was a dull, flat sound. It did not chime. It banged. Margaret heard it from the cellar. She was scrubbing the floor. The water was cold. It stung her fingers. She did not stop. She scrubbed the grout. The black line between the tiles. It looked like a crack. It looked like a wound. She scrubbed harder. The bell rang again. It meant the shift was over. It meant the men were...
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