PREVIEW
... e hush of the sanctum folding over his shoulders like another cloak. Each stride into the spiral corridor rang hollow—boot on stone, faint drip of condensation somewhere deep, the soft skitter of dust his passage disturbed. His own heartbeat thumped in his ears, louder than the echoes. It always did after meetings with the sisters—like his pulse couldn’t decide whether to sprint or hide.
(You’re walking faster than normal,) Cynthia murmured in his mind, warm and observant.
Just g ...
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