Revival

"My sister came home from the revival with someone else's eyes. They weren't the same shape and they were too pale a brown, like the belly of a dead wasp. Mama didn't notice. She was drunk on Holy Spirit and boxed wine, spinning around the kitchen with her arms out. But I noticed, first thing." In Willet's Rest, nothing stays buried for long, and grief has a way of waking old things. Old stories surface, family relics refuse to stay silent, and what follows is Sheryln's descent into inherit...