The Thornfield Enlistment
The house was dying. Elias could feel it in the floorboards, in the way the plaster cracked along the ceiling like dry riverbeds, in the smell that no amount of camphor and lavender could mask—the slow, sweet odor of wood rotting from the inside out. Thornfield Manor had been built in 1842 by his great-grandfather, a man who had made his fortune in cotton and slavery and then spent his...
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