The Faded Bouquet
"You’re still here. I thought the rain would have washed you out by now." Elias Thorne did not answer. He stood in the mud of the Blackwood estate’s yard, his boots sinking with a wet, sucking sound that echoed in the hollow of his chest. In his hands, he clutched a shard of white porcelain, cold and jagged against his palm. It was the bottom of a vase, the only piece of the family’s last...
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