The Faded Alibi

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2026-08-22 10:57:04 -

The Faded Alibi

The ink was black, but it was not ink. You knew this before you touched it, a cold certainty settling in the pit of your stomach as you stared at the final page of the *Book of Hours*. It was a single, irregular blot, no larger than a coin, sitting where the Duke’s name was meant to be. The solstice was three days away. Your pension depended on this book. Without it, you were a man of forty-two...

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