The Faded Attic
The rain lashed against the high windows of Thorne House, a rhythmic drumming that seemed to vibrate through the floorboards and into your bones. You stood in the hallway, your shoes wet and muddy, your twelve-year-old body trembling not from the cold but from the sheer, crushing weight of expectation. You wanted to be adopted by Mr. Thorne, the wealthiest man in the city, and you knew that...
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