Blurb：
When **Morgan Hemlock** takes the blame for sister **Tierney's** knife-driven act against rapist **Beau Redfield**, her 7-year prison sentence ignites a generational storm of vengeance across Appalachia. This explosive tale follows:
- **Meredith Hemlock's** silent suffering as Redfield family corruption poisons Coppercleft
- **Tierney's** ruthless transformation from fugitive sister to criminal queenpin
- Prison alliances with gang leader **Gia Bellucci** and tragic scholar **Daphne Kessler**
- **Sheriff Purnell's** scheming and son **Jansen's** star-crossed loyalty to Morgan
From blood-stained coal mines to money-laundering empires, the Hemlock sisters carve their legacy through:
Prison yard power struggles
Corporate conspiracy tracing back to **Kessler mining dynasty**
Tierney's Keystone Logistics front for underworld dominance
Morgan's accounting genius turned weapon against oppressors
A brutal saga of Appalachian justice where family bonds cut deeper than any blade. As Morgan warns: *"We grow poisonous where others break"* - will their vengeance destroy the Hemlocks or finally bury Coppercleft's demons?
Content：
§PROLOGUEThe lie came easy.
Seven years in a cell, and it became a kind of prayer, a mantra whispered into the concrete sweat of the walls.
My name is Morgan Hemlock, and I killed Colt Redfield.
I was nineteen.
It was the year of our ruin.
§01
1988.
Coppercleft, West Virginia, wasn't a town so much as a wound that refused to heal.
It clung to the side of a mountain like a scab, breathing in coal dust and exhaling despair.
Our family, the Hemlocks, grew in its shadow like the stubborn, poisonous plant we were named for.
My older sister, Meredith, was the first to bloom, and the first to be crushed.
She was being fitted for a wedding dress she never wanted, to a man who had stolen something from her in the damp darkness of an abandoned mine entrance.
Beau Redfield. The name tasted like rust and cheap whiskey on the town's tongue.
He was the son of the man who owned the mine, the town, our very lives.
He was a prince in a kingdom of soot.
And he had put his hands on my sister.
The family, our parents, chose silence.
They chose survival.
A wedding was arranged, a shameful truce to keep us from being starved out, cast out.
Meredith’s sacrifice was a quiet, suffocating thing.
On the day of the wedding rehearsal, a humid afternoon thick with the promise of a storm, a pair of new figures stood by Meredith’s side.
I was nineteen, and my younger sister, Tierney, was seventeen.
We were to be her bridesmaids.
§02
The rehearsal was at the community hall, a rickety building that smelled of stale beer and regret.
Beau Redfield, flushed with victory and bourbon, swaggered through the small crowd.
He was trying to make a toast.
"To my beautiful bride!" he slurred, raising his glass to a pale, trembling Meredith.
I stood beside her, my knuckles white as I gripped the small basket of fake flowers.
My lips were bitten raw, tasting blood.
"I object!"
The words ripped out of me, a bolt of lightning in the stuffy room.
"Beau Redfield is a rapist. He is not my brother-in-law!"
Every eye in that hall turned to me.
It was the gaze of a mob, hungry for a spectacle, laced with a cruel, knowing pity.
They all knew. They just wouldn't say it.
"You goddamn bitch," Beau snarled, his eyes bulging. "I'm marrying your sister. What the hell does it have to do with you?"
His hand flew, a blur of motion.
Crack.
The sting on my cheek was electric.
Crack. Crack.
Two more slaps. My head snapped back with each one.
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The End