The Man in the Fog
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On the seventh night, the lantern came again—but it wasn’t alone.
There was a figure behind it now. Tall, lean, and shadowed. Emily watched from her window, heart galloping. The figure didn’t move, didn’t speak. But the lantern’s glow pulsed stronger, as if in excitement.
Then, a voice—low, melodic, and male—whispered her name.
"Emily."
She stumbled back, breath caught in her throat. When she looked again, both the lantern and the man were gone.
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