The Faded Alibi
Chapter One "You are late, Anahit." The voice came from the shadows of the archive, cold and dry as the dust that coated the shelves. "The ledger is incomplete." Anahit Ivanovic did not look up from his desk. His fingers, stained with the iron-gall ink of a dead era, trembled as he pressed a blotter against the page. The ink bled, not through the paper, but into the air, a faint, dark mist that...
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