Late at night, Eleanor dreamt of ink-stained pages floating in the dark. Each time she reached for them, they slipped through her fingers, leaving behind only fragments of poetry. The words were familiar—her late grandfather’s handwriting. As the dreams persisted, she pieced together the cryptic verses, uncovering a hidden past. A name appeared repeatedly, leading her to an abandoned study filled with unfinished manuscripts. Seeking answers, she turned to ghostwriting services to reconstruct the lost words. But as the final stanza took shape, she realized the poetry wasn’t just a message—it was a warning from beyond the grave.
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