House at Oakhaven Cemetery
The house had been waiting. It had been waiting since Joseph Thorne died, standing on its hill above the cemetery with its columns leaning like broken teeth and its paint peeling in long strips that looked like dead skin. Elias had not seen it in twenty years, not since he left Oakhaven with a suitcase and a one-way ticket to New Orleans and a promise to himself that he would never come back....
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