Run: 2026-02-16-01KHK9SZ9MPTSWC0MT60YXDP9Q

Rain hammered the old manor. Lightning carved knives through windows. Guests gathered, trembling with champagne. Somebody screamed beyond the stairwell. A chandelier groaned, then settled. The grandfather clock confessed midnight. They found Charles Benton sprawled. His tuxedo drank creeping shadows. A ruby wound whispered upward. Blood threaded the silk carpet. Detective Mara Quinn arrived quickly. Her umbrella shook off thunder. She tasted metal in air. Servants circled like uneasy satellites. Each face practiced porcelain calm. Someone clutched a missing cufflink. A glass lay, lipstick bruised. The piano kept breathing wrong. Mara knelt beside the corpse. She checked pockets, found rain. Footprints bled toward the library. One print staggered, slightly smaller. Windows latched from the inside. No curtains fluttered their guilt. A telephone refused to dial. Lightning swallowed the feeble signal. The generator hiccuped, then died. Candles bloomed in watchful circles. Whispers collected behind Mara's shoulder. She asked, Who invited him? Mrs. Halpert lowered her gaze. She answered, The magistrate did. The magistrate stood ghost-pale, trembling. He muttered something about debts. Thunder agreed with dull applause. Mara lifted the bent cufflink. Its emblem showed a falcon. She matched it to blood. Mrs. Halpert's sleeve hid crimson. Everyone noticed, no one breathed. Outside, sirens dreamed of arrival. Inside, secrets buttoned their throats. Mara said, Lock these doors. No one leaves this house. The murderer is among us. Rain kept time for truth.