The Faded Alibi
The fog that clings to the municipal archives is not merely weather; it is a physical weight, a damp wool blanket wrapped around the brickwork of the old library, seeping into the floorboards and the lungs of those who work within. You are Elias Thorne, forty years of your life spent cataloging the silence of others, your fingers stained with the dust of a thousand closed books, and you are...
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