There’s a kind of hush that settles over Pumpkin Hollow when it rains. Not the kind that feels gloomy—but a quiet, comforting stillness, as though the town itself is pulling on a warm shawl and settling in with a cup of something sweet.This morning, I stepped out just as the rain began to fall, soft and steady, soaking into the golden leaves that clung stubbornly to their branches. The sidewalks shimmered, slick with reflections of jack-o’-lanterns still glowing on porches, their grins a little

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