The Beaumont Bloom
The first time Daisy Calloway saw Beaumont Manor, it looked like a skull wearing a crown of white columns. She was cycling from town, her shirt stuck to her back with sweat, the kind of Mississippi heat that doesn't just sit on you but enters you, finds the spaces between your organs and makes its home there. The cotton fields around Oakhaven had been fallow for twenty years, but in June the...
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