The oak tree at the edge of the Beauregard property had been there before the war, before the
Cora Beauregard slept beneath it every night. She was twenty-two and the color of strong tea, dark but not black, light enough to pass for white in certain lights if you squinted and didn't know what you were looking for. The Beauregard property had been her grandmother's. Her grandmother had been a slave, owned by Judge Harrington's grandfather, traded for a horse and a debt forgiven in 1847....
0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 5 Views 0 previzualizare