The Faded Alibi
The rain had been falling for three days, a grey sheet that blurred the edges of the station and turned the cobblestones into slick, black mirrors. You sat at your desk, the wood scarred by decades of files and coffee rings, and watched the water drip from the eaves. The office was cold. It was always cold in the winter at the Bureau, a chill that seemed to seep out of the stone walls...
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