The House of Peach and Honey
The house was dying. Addie DuPont knew this the way she knew the weather — not through observation but through instinct, a bone-deep knowledge that the floorboards beneath her feet were hollow, that the plaster in the walls was cracking like dried skin, that the roof leaked in exactly seventeen places and Mrs. Gable had patched twelve of them with tar and prayer. The house had once been...
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