The Faded Alibi

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2026-08-21 00:26:23 -

The Faded Alibi

The banquet hall smelled of wet wool and burnt sugar. Candles guttered. Shadows stretched long across the floorboards. I sat at the head of the table. My husband, Elias, sat across from me. He did not look at me. He looked at his plate. We were alone. Or so I thought. The room was full of air. The air was full of ghosts. It was the winter of 1892. The mill outside was silent. The gears had...

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