The Faded Masquerade

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2026-08-23 23:45:54 -

The mask was warm, which it should not have been. I held it in my left hand, the porcelain cool against my palm but radiating a dry, persistent heat from the hollow where the eyes should be. It was the only object Clara had left me, a remnant of a costume she wore to the gala three days before the diagnosis, and it had become the anchor for a presence I could not shake. I am Elias Thorne,...

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