The Faded Alibi
The rain against the window of the precinct’s interrogation room was not merely weather but a relentless, grey erasure, smearing the world outside into a blur of wet asphalt and headlight beams that refused to hold their shape, and within this sealed glass box, Captain Elias Thorne sat with his hands folded so tightly in his lap that the knuckles had turned the color of old parchment, watching...
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