The Wistful Dinner
The banquet hall of the St. Jude’s Asylum for the Irrecoverable was a cathedral of dust and decaying grandeur, a space where the air hung thick with the scent of boiled cabbage, old paper, and the metallic tang of fear. It was a closed world, sealed behind iron gates and high stone walls that had not seen the sun in its full glory for decades, yet tonight the long tables were laid with white...
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