The Faded Alibi

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2026-08-22 05:21:31 -

The Faded Alibi

The ink was still wet on the deed when the shadow detached itself from the wall. I stood in the center of the shop, the air thick with the smell of linseed oil and old paper. My hands trembled. Not from fear. From the weight of the thing I held. The quill. A simple goose feather, stained black at the tip. It was the only object in my possession that mattered. The only anchor. "Sign here, Mr....

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