The Faded Alibi
The fog did not roll in so much as it seeped up from the floorboards of the town, a damp, gray wool that swallowed the streetlights and softened the hard edges of the brick facades. Margaret Holloway stood at the window of the library, her breath fogging the glass, watching the mist obscure the world outside until only the immediate, cold air remained. It was a contemporary silence, thick and...
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