Synopsis

The old workshop smelled of sawdust and regret. Elias, his hands stained with years of labor, lay still amidst the scattered tools, a dark stain blooming on the worn floorboards. The question wasn't *how* he died, but *why*. A shadow hung over the village, a suspicion clinging to the air like woodsmoke – a possible culprit, defiant and unrepentant, offered no denial of the brutal truth.