Whispers in the Pines
The air was thick with the scent of pine resin and damp earth as Clara Voss stepped off the creaking bus, her boots crunching over gravel. The town of Black Hollow lay sprawled before her, a patchwork of sagging porches…
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Whispers in the Pines
The rain came in sheets, turning the gravel road into a slick ribbon of mud. Clara tightened her coat against the cold, her boots crunching over broken glass as she stepped into the town square. The air smelled of damp…