The Faded Alibi
The name was called not as a summons but as a weight, a dull thud against the stone that Elias Vane felt in his teeth before his ears registered the sound. "Elias," the voice said, low and domestic, like a kettle beginning to boil on a stove in another room. It was Thomas, the jailer, though he did not need to speak for the sound to carry the specific frequency of the iron lock on the cell...
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