The Haunting
The phantom of Maggie Cleary clung to Elara like the smell of damp earth from the construction site. She saw the woman’s weary, accusing face in the steam of her morning coffee, in the grain of the conference room table. The raw ore cornerstone, now displayed on a shelf in their bedroom, felt less like a symbol of strength and more like a tombstone. Kaelan, conversely, seemed energized by the encounter. The woman’s resistance was just another force to be mastered, a variable in the complex equation of The Foundry. He began drafting “community legacy” initiatives: a small scholarship fund named for the tannery workers and a historical plaque. It was damage control, brilliantly packaged as benevolence. To him, the matter was settled. For Elara, it was an open wound. The guilt she had locke
- Writer
