The Whispering Greenhouse
The bayou does not give up its secrets. It keeps them in the mud, in the slow black water, in the Spanish moss that hangs from the cypress trees like the ghosts of women who drowned. I came to the DuBois plantation because Benny said he needed someone who knew the water. He did not say what he needed me to find. But I knew — the DuBois name in the bayou means something old and something broken,...
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