The Faded Alibi
The chandelier in the mill office swung gently, casting long, trembling shadows across the mahogany table where thirty years of Clara Vane’s life had been laid out for inspection. She stood in the center of the room, a seamstress in a dress that fit her too well, holding a silver brooch that hummed against her sternum with a cold, persistent vibration. The banquet had been a masquerade of...
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