The Faded Alibi
The mist in the valley of Harrow’s End did not rise so much as it exhaled, a slow, grey breath that settled over the town like a shroud that had been worn too long. It clung to the eaves of the stone cottages and the iron gates of the old manor, erasing the edges of the world until the only thing that remained was the center. In that center stood Elias Thorne, a man who had carried the weight...
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