The Faded Alibi
The fluorescent lights of the South Ward hummed with a frequency that Elena Vance had come to associate with the slow erosion of time. It was 3:45 AM on a Tuesday in November, and the air in Room 412 tasted of antiseptic and the stale, burnt coffee that permeated the nurses’ station. Elena stood by the bed of her younger sister, Clara, who lay small and pale beneath the thin hospital blanket,...
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