The Wistful Mirror
The morning mist clung to the cobblestones of Oakhaven like a shroud that refused to be lifted, and in the quiet of the archivist’s office, Elias Ashworth watched his sister Clara step onto the carriage that would carry her away from the town’s suffocating gaze. She did not look back, her face a mask of rigid determination, but her hand, visible through the carriage window, clutched their...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews