The Faded Alibi
The rain had not stopped for three days, a steady, grey curtain that blurred the edges of the estate and turned the gravel paths into slick rivers of mud. Elias Thorne stood at the window of the high library, his reflection ghostly against the dark glass, watching the water cascade down the pane. He was a man carved from the same stone as the house, rigid and weathered, his face a map of deep...
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