The Faded Alibi
The rain had not ceased for three days, a persistent, gray curtain that turned the cobblestones of the village square into slick, black mirrors reflecting the low, oppressive sky. In the center of this damp stillness stood the stone house of Elias Thorne, a structure so old that the mortar between its blocks seemed to have softened, weeping with the same moisture that saturated the air. Elias...
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