The Forgotten Manor
ACT I The well was the first thing you noticed when you drove up the long, weedy road to the Beauregard place, and the last thing you noticed when you drove away, because human nature is arranged in a hierarchy of discomfort, and the well sat at the top, just beyond the overgrown garden where fireflies gathered in the summer like tiny lanterns held by invisible hands. Ophelia Beauregard was...
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