• The Faded Guest
    The house on Harrow Lane had always been too large for the number of people living in it. Eleanor Voss had bought it twenty-three years ago, when she was thirty-one and believed that space was the same thing as safety. The five bedrooms sat empty most days, their doors closed not to keep out drafts but to keep something else in — the silence, the dust, the memory of furniture that had been...
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