The fire crackled with a soft, steady rhythm, popping occasionally as sap boiled from the birch logs, sending tiny golden sparks leaping toward the chimney breast. The shadows danced across the coffered ceiling like silent witnesses to an ancient, sacred reunion. Nathan picked up his glass of Margaux, holding it up so the firelight shone through the ruby depths of the wine. He turned to Claire, his gaze steady, searching,…
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