The Faded Alibi
The fluorescent lights of the federal disciplinary hearing room did not buzz so much as they hummed, a low, electric drone that seemed to vibrate directly against the fillings in Elias Thorne’s teeth. He sat rigidly at the steel table, his hands clasped beneath the surface, the left one trembling with a rhythmic, involuntary spasm that he had spent the last six months trying to hide from the...
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