The Distant Affair
The fog rolled into the valley of the Chateau de Vaudreuil not as a weather phenomenon, but as a physical weight, pressing against the leaded glass windows until the panes groaned under the strain. I sat in the library, my fingers tracing the spines of books that had long since lost their titles to damp and neglect, waiting for the sound of the front door to open, for the step of my son,...
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