Run: 2026-02-16-01KHK9ADACDAZXH5RT2GKSWQ0Y

Rain stitched darkness over Hawthorn. The mansion watched, windows unblinking. Detective Mara Quinn arrived late. Her coat dripped patient rivers. The butler's hands shook twice. He whispered, Master will not. Mara smelled copper, old wallpaper. A grandfather clock had stopped. Its hands severed at midnight. Footprints bloomed across Persian carpets. One set faced the door. Another vanished into lamplight silence. Thunder rehearsed excuses for screams. The library reeked of brandy. On velvet, a letter opener. Its tip wore choked crimson. No corpse, only practiced absence. Curtains breathed like guilty lungs. A portrait watched her accusations. It favored the missing heir. Mara cataloged everything, asked nothing. Silence filled in reluctant answers. She noticed damp ash prints. They circled the empty hearth. Wind bullied the back door. Its chain hung politely broken. An ambulance wailed without corpses. Neighbors gathered, clutching shared alibis. Someone wept, no tears came. Mara found the power switch. Light exposed a second message. Dust spelled help in footprints. Under it: three lonely matches. She pocketed two, left one. Upstairs, a hinge confessed softly. A shadow waited, breathing patience.