Part One

The heat in Mississippi in July doesn't just sit on you. It owns you. It presses its palm against your forehead and says, I know your name. Sebastian Harrow knew this heat. He had been born in it, raised in it, and for twenty-eight years had let it define everything about him. The Harrow family had lived in this town—a place called Harrow's End, population four hundred and seventeen, post...
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