The Gilded Cage of Dust
The manor house at Blackwood stood like a rotting tooth in the jaw of the Mississippi Delta. Silas was the last of the Blackwoods, a man whose blood was a map of ancestral sins and whose mind was a doorway that wouldn't stay shut. He didn't choose the jumps. The jumps chose him. It started with a sneeze, a blink, a sudden shift in the wind. One moment he was staring at the peeling wallpaper of...
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