House on Bayou Lane
The cicadas screamed. That was the first thing Bea noticed when Thomas Calloway arrived at the Deschanel plantation—the noise. It was July 1954, and the Louisiana summer had wrapped itself around St. Landry Parish like a wet blanket, and the cicadas were louder than they had any right to be. Bea stood on the porch in a cotton dress the color of faded lavender, watching the black sedan pull up...
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