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Melody rolled her eyes. “The book didn’t make me want to kill my husband.” “It didn’t lure you off the righteous path?” Mara asked. “No.” “Are you sure?” Mara pressed her. “The book didn’t have anything to do with it?” “I said no,” Melody replied bluntly. “So do you think there’s a chance that some of the books you’ve labeled dangerous might actually be able to help some people?” Melody glared at her. “Maybe,” she finally conceded.
The ladies of Troy had devised a secret language just to put one another down. You could insult someone’s whole family by bringing the wrong dish to a potluck. They used words like nice and sweet as their daggers and would stab you right in the heart with a cute. And heaven forbid anyone ever said you mean well.
“The Bible says men lying with men is an abomination.” “The Bible’s got about a million words and that’s the only quote people can ever come up with to prove God frowns on gay folks. It’s from the Old Testament, which also says pigs are unclean and shouldn’t be touched. I don’t recall the pastor turning his nose up at any barbecue.” Betsy laughed at the thought. “Last time he was at our house for dinner, I was pretty sure he was going to eat a whole pig.”
Isaac recognized a single name on Beverly Underwood’s family tree. When he entered that name into a blank space on his own, the DNA matched and the site accepted the man as an ancestor. The forefather he and Beverly Underwood shared was the man who’d “saved” Troy, Confederate general Augustus Wainwright.
But it was one empty space that haunted Isaac more than the others—the one right beside Augustus Wainwright. The unnamed Black woman who was the matriarch of their family. Who was she? Where had she been born and where had she gone? How did she come to give birth to a Confederate general’s child?