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The Last Enchantress
Category: Fantasy
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
There were stories told of this place, and none of them ended well.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
The end.