The Distant Threshold

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2026-08-24 09:43:10 -

The silk bit into my wrists, cool and unyielding against the sweat-slicked skin. I was in the basement. The air was thick, cloying with the scent of rotting lilies, a perfume that seemed to seep from the very stones of the ancestral estate. Three days. That was how long Clara had been gone, and in that span, the house had become a labyrinth of shadows and whispers, a place where time did not...

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