The Faded Attic
The rain had not stopped for three days, a relentless, gray curtain that turned the world outside the high, arched windows of the Halloway estate into a blurred smear of mud and rot, and Arthur Halloway sat in the center of the attic floor, his back against the sloping eaves, the dampness of the old timber seeping through the wool of his coat to chill his bones in a way that felt less like...
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