Sample-V-05: The Rotting Legacy
The humidity of the Mississippi Delta did not just hang in the air; it seeped into the bones, carrying the scent of river mud and ancient, decaying magnolia trees. Evangeline stood on the porch of Blackwood Manor, watching the grey mist swallow the horizon. The house was a skeletal remains of a dynasty, its white pillars stained with green mold, its grand balconies sagging like tired eyelids....
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