Celeste finally looked up. "What kind of doctor?"

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2026-06-06 17:53:05 -

The humidity in Mississippi did not simply exist—it pressed. It settled on Celeste DuBois's skin like a second layer of clothing, heavy and inescapable, carrying with it the scent of magnolia and decay. She stood at the edge of the clearing, her notebook in hand, studying the bones that had been found beneath the roots of a live oak that had seen more death than most churches. "Another one,"...

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