The Faded Photograph
The house at the edge of the moor did not stand so much as it endured, a sprawling edifice of grey stone that seemed to breathe with the damp exhalations of the land. For three generations, the Ashworth lineage had lived within these walls, their bloodlines tangled with the mortar and the moss, their secrets buried in the cellar alongside the root cellars and the old, forgotten sins. It was a...
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