The Faded Alibi
The rain had not stopped for three days. It drummed a steady, hollow rhythm against the windowpanes of the attic room, a sound that had long since ceased to be weather and become instead the heartbeat of the house itself. You sat on the edge of the mattress, your fingers tracing the grain of the wooden floor, feeling the cold seep up through the soles of your stockings. Below, in the kitchen,...
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