Dead Utterings »

Her doors had been locked some thirty years before, but the boards nailed upon them protected so much more than her wood and her glass; they also hid a secret and a dark and infamous past. Still, somewhere amidst the darkness and the dust, the bricks and the memories lurked defiance, spirit, and a will to survive.

For thirty forgotten summers and thirty abandoned winters she stood, defying the death-knell of demolition that hung over her broken roof. And then they arrived: a gang of counterfeiters working in the safety and seclusion of her shadows.

But as they would discover, The Station Hotel, just like the beautiful brunette who still roamed her corridors, was anything but safe.