WNDR5825
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Stranger at the Threshold
The storm hit before you could leave, and now Harrowfield Manor has swallowed you whole — three strangers, one locked iron gate, and a will that names a fortune no one will explain. By the time you realize all three of them already know your name before you introduced yourself, the candles have burned to half-mast and someone has moved the key from where it was an hour ago. Eight hours. One heir. And every person in this house is lying to your face with a smile that looks almost like desire.
@WNDR5825