The Faded Alibi

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2026-08-24 15:39:22 -

The Faded Alibi

The count was precise: forty-three candles burning in the great hall of Blackwood Manor, each one costing a shilling, each one consuming a drop of wax that smelled of tallow and old fear. You stood by the heavy oak table, your hands folded in your lap, watching the flame lick the wick. The air was thick, not with smoke, but with the weight of the silence that had settled over the family since...

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