The mansion loomed under a blanket of fog, its windows glinting like watchful eyes on that fateful, stormy night. A piercing scream shattered the silence, echoing through the darkened halls and awakening the residents from their slumber. Detective Harper arrived moments later, coat flapping, boots splashing through the puddles pooling on the gravel driveway outside. Inside, the opulence of the drawing room contrasted sharply with the scene before her, stark and chilling like a bad dream. The victim lay sprawled on the ornate rug, a crimson stain spreading across the delicate patterns, whispering secrets of violence. Guests gathered in hushed groups, exchanging anxious glances, their faces pale under the flickering chandelier’s dim light overhead. Harper’s eyes narrowed as she scanned the room, noting subtle hints of fear and suspicion among the assembled suspects. A glint of silver caught her attention—an elegant dagger, its hilt adorned with jewels, lay just inches from the corpse. “Everyone, stay where you are,” she commanded, her voice firm, directing her attention to the swirling chaos of emotions. Each person instinctively stepped back, as if retreating from an unseen danger lurking just beyond the shadows surrounding them. In that moment, Harper felt the weight of countless eyes, all wondering who would be exposed as the murderer next. The air thickened with unspoken accusations, thick fog wrapping around each whispered word like a sinister embrace during such dire circumstances.