The Faded Alibi
The rain did not fall so much as it existed, a cold, grey curtain that blurred the boundaries between the street and the sky, between the solid world and the rot that seeped up from the cobblestones. Thomas Bradshaw stood in the center of the intersection, his coat soaked through to the skin, his hands trembling not from the chill but from the sheer, overwhelming weight of the silence that had...
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