The Faded Alibi
The brooch was cracked. Maren saw it first. A hairline fracture ran through the emerald center. It looked like a vein of ice in green glass. She touched it. Cold. The town of Oakhaven did not change. It sat heavy under the weight of centuries. Stone walls. Narrow streets. The air smelled of damp wool and old wood. Maren walked fast. Her boots clicked on the cobblestones. A sharp, lonely sound....
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