The Faded Bouquet

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2026-08-26 06:27:23 -

The Faded Bouquet

Hamish MacIntyre’s fingers dug into the rotting armrest of the library chair, the wood splintering under the pressure of his nails. He was not looking at the room. He was looking at the shape in the corner, the one that wore his face but moved with the slack, fluid grace of a man who had forgotten how to breathe. The air in the old manor was heavy with damp wool and old paper, a scent that had...

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