The Distant Summer

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2026-08-22 23:23:49 -

The dinner table was set for eight, though only three remained in the house. My father, Elias, sat at the head, his hands folded over a glass of sherry that he did not drink. The air in the dining room of Hale House was thick, not with smoke, but with the heavy, metallic scent of iron filings and old paper. I was twenty-four, a clerk in the city, and I had come home to collect the ledger that...

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