The Manor of Falling Skies
The cicadas were screaming on a Tuesday in August 1928, and Cora Beauregard stood on the porch of the Beauregard manor watching Uncle Silas carry an oak chest up the steps from the cellar. The chest was heavy—he walked slowly, his knees buckling slightly with each step, his breath coming in short gasps that were lost beneath the cicadas' relentless noise. The heat on the porch was like a wall....
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