The Wistful Petal
The letter from Harrow & Vane Estate Agents lay on the oak desk, its seal unbroken, the paper yellowed with a dampness that smelled of cellar stone. I read the first line, then the second, and by the third, the air in the room had thickened into a solid wall of silence. The agent, a man named Silas Thorne, no relation, had written to inform me that the sale of Blackwood Manor was not merely a...
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