The Distant Temple
The silence in Blackwood Manor was not empty; it was heavy, a physical weight that pressed against my eardrums and settled in the hollows of my chest. I sat in the high-backed chair in the study, my hands resting on the mahogany armrests, staring at the floor. Three days ago, my father, Arthur, had walked out of the house and not returned. The police had searched the grounds, the river, the...
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