Shadow of the Magnolia
The heat in Mississippi did not just sit; it pressed. It was a heavy, wet blanket that smelled of river mud and rotting jasmine, draping itself over the decaying columns of the Blackwood estate. Silas lived in the shadow of those columns, a man of silence and sudden flinches, moving through the house like a trespasser in his own life. He remembered the magnolias. He remembered the white petals...
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