The Faded Alibi
The glass in Elias Thorne’s left hand trembled, a fine, high-frequency vibration that turned the red wine into a blurred, pulsing ring. He was forty-two, a senior archivist at the Meridian Museum of History, and he stood in the center of the grand ballroom, surrounded by the board of directors in their tailored suits, their laughter sharp and bright in the air conditioning’s dry heat. He wanted...
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