The Wistful Letter

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2026-08-21 20:40:23 -

The rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a suspended gray mist that clung to the windowpanes of the Blackwood estate like a living membrane, blurring the line between the decaying oak interior and the rotting garden beyond, where the ivy had long since strangled the foundation stones and claimed the porch for its own green, hungry dominion. Margaret stood in the center of the library, her...

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