The Roots of Oakhaven Manor
I The Spanish moss hung from the ancient oaks of Oakhaven Manor like the gray beards of dead men. It swayed in the Mississippi heat, which arrived in June and did not leave until October, pressing down on the flat red earth with a weight that made breathing feel like an act of defiance. Silas Devine was twenty years old and knew, with the absolute certainty of someone who has never been allowed...
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