Run: 2026-02-16-01KHK96BXD2P7QBFNNRHYQTAFH

Rain hammered the glass-paned conservatory. Detective Mara Quinn studied everything. The party had ended violently. Crystal shards glittered beside bodies. Music still played, eerily cheery. The host lay dead center. Scarlet wine soaked his tuxedo. No glass near his hand. But blood rimmed his lips. Guests huddled, whispering, avoiding her. Mara noticed one missing cufflink. The other gleamed under piano. She knelt, examining the keys. Middle C was smeared crimson. Someone had played while dying. Or after, Mara thought, colder. Outside, sirens wailed through fog. Inside, a clock chimed midnight. Everyone claimed simultaneous alibis, impossibly. Yet someone had locked doors. Windows were latched from within. The conservatory skylight showed rain. No footprints marked the soil. Mara smelled cordite, faint, lingering. The gun was missing entirely. She addressed the shaking guests. Nobody moved toward the exit. Lightning flashed, bleaching every face. In that instant, Mara decided. The killer remained among them.