The Faded Alibi
The smell of burnt sugar and antiseptic hung heavy in the air of the isolation ward, a cloying, suffocating perfume that seemed to coat the back of the throat and refuse to be swallowed, a scent that was at once familiar and utterly alien, a sensory assault that did more to destabilize the mind than the cold, sterile glare of the fluorescent lights that hummed with a low, electric frequency, a...
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