©Novel Buddy
PREVIEW
... fog thickened.
The courtyard was scattered with mist, layer upon layer, veiling everything.
There was no moonlight. Only the dim yellow streetlights illuminated the grounds of the Cheney Residence.
The interplay of light and shadow, branches crisscrossing, cast landscape after landscape on the ground.
In the bedroom, Yolanda Fern drowsily went to sleep.
Her head, dull with pain.
Her small hand tightly clutched the blanket, her forehead beaded with ...
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