The Ash-Hollowed Truth
The manor of Blackwood stood like a rotting tooth in the jaw of the Mississippi Delta. Around it, the cotton fields stretched out in a sea of oppressive white, a landscape of heat, humidity, and a silence that felt like a held breath. Professor Thorne did not belong in the Delta. He was a man of Oxford and old libraries, a man who believed that the light of reason could pierce any darkness. He...
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