The house was surprisingly well-kept, stately even. Not that you could see much of it in the encroaching darkness. The dwindling twilight cast shadows along the length of the stonework exterior, transforming slightly unkempt bushes and hedges into crouching terrors.
Sahar swallowed nervously and steeled her shoulders. This was it. This was the place.
She reached up her hand to knock on the imposing oak door, then let it drop without a sound. What was she thinking? More importantly, what had the mayor and her parents been thinking?
The day had started out relatively promising.
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