The Distant Ghost
The mist did not roll in so much as it seeped up from the soil, a cold, damp breath that smelled of rot and old iron. I am Elias Thorne. I have held the border of Blackwood Estate for twenty years, a warden in a house that feels less like a home and more like a tomb waiting for its final occupant. My son, Julian, vanished three months ago. The magistrate, Lord Vane, claims the boy fled with a...
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