The Distant Ghost

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2026-08-23 23:39:24 -

The Distant Ghost

The glass was cold, colder than the winter air that seeped through the cracks in the windowpane, and Arthur Vane’s fingers bled where he gripped the edge of the vanity. He was not looking for a reflection; he was looking for the paper, the deed to Vane Hall, which he had hidden in the silver leafing of the mirror three years ago, the day after Margaret died. The house smelled of damp wool and...

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