The Faded Alibi

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2026-08-17 23:02:21 -

The Faded Alibi

The hall smelled of wet wool and coal smoke. It smelled of iron. Colonel Elias Thorne stood at the center of the room. He did not dance. He watched. The chandeliers above spun a lazy, drunken circle, casting long, swinging shadows that seemed to breathe against the plaster walls. This was the end of the season. Or so they said. In this place, time did not move in lines. It pooled. It stagnated....

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