The Last Supper at Blackwood Manor
The dining room of Blackwood Manor smelled of damp velvet and rotting lilies. Colonel Montgomery, the last scion of a family whose wealth had been built on the bones of the Caribbean, sat at the head of a table that could seat forty, though only four remained. Outside, the sky was a bruised purple. The stars were not twinkling; they were blinking out, one by one, like lightbulbs in a dying...
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