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Crown of Thorns
Category: Historical
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
A knock at the door changed everything.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The end.