The Golden Cellar
The cellar door swung open with a groan that sounded too much like a sigh, too much like the settling of bones in old wood, and I stood there in the draft, holding the lantern up against the dark with hands that shook not from cold but from the sheer, terrifying weight of the secret I had carried in my chest for three days, three days that had stretched into a lifetime of silence and waiting...
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