The house sat on the hill like a judgment you could not escape, white columns rotting slowly beneath a layer of peeling paint that had once been proud. Silas Beauregard stood at the gate and looked up at it, and the look was enough to start everything.
The house sat on the hill like a judgment you could not escape, white columns rotting slowly beneath a layer of peeling paint that had once been proud. Silas Beauregard stood at the gate and looked up at it, and the look was enough to start everything. Eleven years. He had not seen the house in eleven years, and yet it recognized him the way an old dog recognizes a master it has been told will...
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