The Pale Shadows
The banquet hall of the Ashworth family estate, a sprawling Victorian monstrosity of peeling plaster and sagging beams, had not seen such a gathering in thirty years. The air was thick with the scent of stale lavender and old dust, a perfume that seemed to cling to the skin like a second, invisible layer of clothing. It was a night of high society, or what the townspeople of Oakhaven chose to...
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