The Golden Myth
The mirror in the hall of the Ashworth house did not break; it shattered, but in a way that defied the physics of glass, exploding into a thousand shards that hung suspended in the air like a swarm of silver moths, refusing to fall. They hovered at eye level, catching the gray afternoon light from the window, and for a long, breathless moment, the only sound in the house was the low, thrumming...
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