The Faded Alibi
The stone was cold. It pressed against Thomas’s back, a slab of grey granite slick with condensation and old memory. He sat in the crypt, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and decay. Above him, the vaulted ceiling of the chapel rose into darkness, supported by pillars that looked like the ribcage of a giant beast. The only light came from a single tallow candle, its flame trembling...
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