The Faded Alibi
The gilded cup was heavier than it looked, a dead weight in Lena Orlov’s trembling hands as the magistrate’s smile cut the air like a blade. "Loyalty," he toasted, his voice a low rumble that drowned out the clinking of silverware in the banquet hall. The room froze, the silence a noose tightening around her neck as his eyes fixed on the scar on her throat. He leaned in, whispering that the...
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