The Faded Alibi
The fog in Oakhaven did not behave like weather. It behaved like a memory, thick and gray, clinging to the eaves of the houses and the branches of the skeletal maples that lined the main street. It was the kind of morning that erased the world beyond a few feet, reducing the town to a whisper of shapes and sounds, a suspended moment where time seemed to pool rather than flow. Dr. Elias Thorne...
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