The Distant Summer
The banquet hall of the Ashworth manor, a sprawling Victorian relic of stone and shadow perched on the cliffs of the Cotswolds, was suffocating under the weight of its own opulence, the air thick with the cloying scent of roasted pheasant, aged wine, and the metallic tang of anxiety that permeated the gathered elite. Thomas, a boy of fourteen years whose posture was stiff with the rigid...
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