The Faded Alibi
The dust in the ruins of the St. Jude’s Chapel site still hung in the air like a suspended breath, settling slowly on the jagged edges of the exposed rebar and the shattered concrete, a grey powder that coated the inside of Elias Thorne’s lungs with every shallow draw. He stood amidst the wreckage of his life’s work, his hands trembling not from the cold November wind that cut through the...
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