The Faded Alibi
Thorne! Move your ass, Sergeant, or I’ll have you digging a grave for your own feet. The voice came from the mud behind him, wet and slurred, but Elias Thorne did not turn. He stood in the trench, the sleet hissing against the oilskin of his coat, his hand trembling as he gripped the brass buckle of his wedding ring. It was cold, a sharp bite against his palm, the only solid thing in a world...
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