The Faded Alibi
The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a heavy, grey curtain that smelled of wet slate and the metallic tang of rusted iron, a perpetual dampness that had seeped into the very marrow of the city of Oakhaven for three days without ceasing, turning the cobblestones of the lower districts into slick, treacherous mirrors that reflected the jaundiced gaslights of the watchmen’s...
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