The Faded Apartment
The dampness of the Halloway Estate did not merely sit in the air; it seeped into the marrow, a cold, persistent pressure that Arthur Vane felt against his ribs as he stood in the entrance hall, his breath misting faintly in the stagnant chill. He was forty years old, a historian of modest reputation and desperate ambition, and he had come here to secure the tenure that would save his career,...
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