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The Last Enchantress
Category: Fantasy
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
A knock at the door changed everything.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
The end.