The Faded Alibi
Chapter One "You are lying to me, Vincenzo." The Bishop’s voice was dry, like old paper crumbling in a fist. I stood before the desk, the smell of ozone and stale incense hanging heavy in the vestry, and felt the weight of the medical printer on my shoulder, its filament spool low and clicking softly with every step. I was forty years old, a scribe in a town that had forgotten how to speak, and...
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