The Faded Alibi
Thorne, you’re late. The voice belonged to the Head Archivist, a woman named Mrs. Gable who possessed the specific, dry authority of someone who had long since stopped caring about human sentiment and cared only about the integrity of the binding. Elias Thorne stood in the doorway of the reading room, his coat damp with the November drizzle that had been falling since dawn, a persistent gray...
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