The Distant Promise
The house at the end of Holloway Lane did not stand so much as it loomed, a skeletal finger pointing accusingly at the bruised twilight sky. Elara Vance sat in the center of the parlor, her hands resting on the velvet arms of a chair that had outlived three generations of the Vance lineage. Before her, on the dust-covered rug, lay the object that had consumed the last decade of her life: a...
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