Run: 2026-02-16-01KHKB46HVEVA9N59DAYTEPRYB

Fog clung to the cobblestones as Mrs. Hawthorne discovered the body draped awkwardly beneath the gaslamp's jaundiced light at midnight. Neighbors gathered behind lace curtains, whispering theories while policemen measured footprints and circled the stain like vultures over prey silently. Detective Ames arrived smelling of pipe tobacco, trench coat soaked, eyes scanning faces for lies, alibis, and terrified confessions quickly. The victim's ledger lay open on the sidewalk, its ledger entries smeared, inked promises cancelled by a single invisible hand. A silver cufflink caught moonlight; police notes listed no witnesses, but someone had whispered names into the dead man's ear. Rain began soft as a curtain, erasing footprints, washing secrets down gutters where gossip waits, sharp and patient like knives.