Run: 2026-02-16-01KHKAE4KHXQJHKYMECH6ASJ71

Fog clung to Harrow Street as midnight bells faded away. Detective Mara Quinn watched the townhouse window glow faintly inside. A scream snapped through silence, then cut off abruptly tonight. Neighbors opened curtains, but nobody stepped onto wet cobblestones yet. Mara climbed the stoop, smelling lilacs and something metallic nearby. The brass knocker hung ajar, like a broken jawbone still. Inside, candles guttered, painting walls with nervous, wavering shadows alone. On the carpet lay Lionel Graves, banker, philanthropist, newly dead. His right hand gripped a torn note stained by ink. Mara read one word: 'Tuesday,' and felt the trap closing.