The Faded Alibi
The sulfur hung in the air like a second skin, clinging to the wool of your coat and the cotton of your shirt, a scent that had become so familiar it was indistinguishable from your own breath. You stood in the corridor of the Hartwell Coal Company infirmary, the linoleum cold and damp under your boots, and watched Mr. Halloway pace before the barred window. He was a small man, precise in his...
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