The Faded Alibi
The ink was wet, but the paper was already dry. Elias Thorne watched the black smear spread across the ledger, a dark stain blooming like a bruise on the skin of the record. He pressed the brass seal harder, the weight of it cold against his palm, and the anomaly repeated: on the reverse side of the page, a ghostly signature emerged, identical to his own, as if his hand had reached through the...
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