The Faded Alibi
The ink in the ledger did not dry; it wept. Elias Thorne watched the black stain spread from the signature of his dead brother, Arthur, eating into the parchment like a bruise forming under skin. It was 1924, and the town of Oakhaven, huddled in the industrial shadow of the river mills, held a secret that no one spoke aloud but everyone feared: the dead spoke through the ink of official...
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