The Humidity of Secrets
The air in the Georgia lowlands was a physical presence, a thick, wet blanket that smelled of rotting jasmine and ancient mud. Lydia stepped off the bus, her designer heels sinking into the soft, grey earth of her hometown. She had spent fifteen years in Atlanta building a reputation as a lawyer who didn't lose, but returning to Oakhaven felt like stepping back into a grave. The divorce from...
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