The Faded Bouquet
The rain in Harrow Creek did not fall so much as it hovered, a grey, suspended mist that clung to the windows of the old manor house like a funeral veil that refused to be lifted. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood by the window, his reflection a ghostly outline against the dark, watching the water bead and slide down the glass. He had been there for three days, waiting for the rain to stop so he...
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