The Shadow in the Pines
The Appalachian Mountains are a place where secrets go to rot. My wife, Sarah, and I moved to the valley in 1955, hoping for a quiet life away from the noise of the city. We bought a small cabin surrounded by towering pines that seemed to lean in, listening to our every word. Sarah was a mystery even to me. She had come from a family of mountain healers, women who knew the language of roots and...
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