Run: 2026-02-16-01KHK9KJ4YKZP1WGM91YA4SMNC

Rain hammered the glass as Detective Mara Quinn approached Whitfield. The mansion loomed ahead, windows black, driveway slick with secrets. Inside, the lights flickered like nervous witnesses awaiting cross-examination tonight. A butler opened cautiously, studying Mara's badge with open suspicion. Behind him, voices trembled, clustered around the grand piano's shadow. The call had mentioned screams, then silence, then rushing water. Water still dripped somewhere, irregular as a frightened heartbeat nearby. Mara stepped inside, cataloging expensive art and poorly hidden fear. A shattered champagne flute glittered beneath the chandelier like starlight. Blood marred the ivory keys, drying in hesitant, uneven streaks. On the loveseat, four guests waited, arranged like mismatched portraits. Their clothes whispered money; their eyes screamed something harder, dangerous. Mara noted who stared at the keys, who deliberately didn't. In the adjoining conservatory, paramedics hovered around an unseen body. A woman's laughter echoed faintly, recorded on someone's forgotten phone. Mara exhaled slowly, tasting copper, perfume, and the inevitable tonight.