The Wistful Dinner
The letter lay on the workbench, its edges curling from the damp that seeped through the floorboards of the cellar. It was a final notice from the solicitors, detailing the sale of the manor’s contents to settle the debts Elara had accrued over the last three years of trying to keep the house standing. She read the line about the kitchen fixtures, the copper pans, the cast-iron stove, and felt...
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