The Faded Quadrant
The carriage wheels struck the gravel with a sound like breaking bones, and Elara Vane stepped into the mud of the drive with her trunk in hand. She was thirty-two, her face gaunt from months of sleeping in shifts at the hospital, her eyes fixed on the rotting facade of Blackwood Hall. The estate was hers now, a legacy of debt and decay left by a father who had died weak and silent in a rented...
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