The Faded Alibi
The rain fell in sheets of iron, turning the cobblestones of the old quarter into mirrors of shattered light. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood beneath the awning of a closed pharmacy, his uniform soaked to the skin, the fabric clinging to him like a second, heavier skin. In his hand, he held a small glass vial, its contents a pale, viscous liquid that caught the neon glow of the streetlamp above. It...
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