The Faded Alibi

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2026-08-23 12:29:39 -

The Faded Alibi

The leather of the journal was cracked along the spine, the cover dark with old sweat and the dust of the northern road. I held it in my hands, feeling the cold seep through the worn hide, and watched the ink on the first page bleed into a pale, watery smear. It was 1912, and the frost was thick enough to crack the wheels of the supply wagon. I was Sergeant Elias Thorne, forty-two years old,...

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