The Golden Greenhouse
The rain had not stopped for three days, a relentless, grey curtain that turned the streets of Oakhaven into a soup of mud and rust, and you stood in the center of the town square, your boots sinking into the sludge, holding the brass key that felt heavier than lead in your hand. It was a key for the old municipal greenhouse, a structure that had been condemned a decade ago, its glass...
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