The Faded Alibi
The train had long since abandoned the valley, leaving Elias Thorne alone with the rusted cart and the heavy, wet silence of the Blackwood Ridge. He was forty-two, a surveyor by trade and a widower by circumstance, and his hands, usually steady enough to hold a plumb line against the wind, trembled as he pulled the leather satchel from his lap. He had come to finalize the estate of Clara, his...
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