The Shadow in the Barn

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2026-06-01 23:34:57 -

The humidity of the Georgia coast was a physical weight, a wet blanket that smelled of jasmine and decay. My father was a man of silence and shadows, the head steward of the Blackwood Estate, a place where the oaks grew so thick they seemed to be strangling the sunlight. I was ten years old, a small, invisible thing that lived in the periphery of my father's world, spending my days exploring...

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