The House of Vengeance
The cotton did not forget. It absorbed everything\u2014blood, sweat, tears, the salt of a hundred summers\u2014and held it in its roots like a ledger that refused to balance. Uncle Ezekiel had been at Harlan Plantation since 1867, which meant he was seventy years old and his knees were the colour of old cotton and his hands were maps of every wound the land had ever given him. He had buried...
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