The Faded Apartment
The banquet hall of the Ashworth estate did not smell of food, but of dust and old beeswax, a cloying sweetness that clung to the back of the throat like a memory one could not shake. It was a celebration of sorts, a gathering of the remnants of a family that had once commanded the county, now reduced to a whisper of its former grandeur. Margaret stood by the window, watching the rain blur the...
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