The Faded Alibi
The train groaned against the iron tracks, a long, mournful sound that seemed to stretch the morning light into thin, pale ribbons across the windows. Elias Thorne sat in the corner of the carriage, his uniform pressed and immaculate, the brass buttons catching the dim glow of the overhead lamps like small, frozen stars. He was a man who held his stillness with the same rigor he held his rank,...
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