The Faded Apartment
The iron gate of the estate, rusted into a lattice of orange and brown, creaked with a sound that was less a noise and more a physical weight, settling onto the shoulders of my spirit as I pushed through the threshold. I am a man of the law, a guardian of the perimeter, yet here, in the decaying grandeur of the Whitmore ancestral home, I felt stripped of my authority, reduced to a mere observer...
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