Run: 2026-02-16-01KHKB6GXGAKGBFR5Y2WH23H6T

Rain hammered the station roof, drowning announcements in metallic thunder. Detective Mara Quinn watched puddles tremble beneath the fluorescent lights. The midnight train arrived late, shouldering fog like guilty conscience. Doors hissed open, exhaling travelers, coffee, diesel, and sleepless worry. Porter Alvarez pushed his trolley, eyes down, secretly counting suitcases. At carriage three, the door jammed halfway, shuddering like hesitation. A gloved hand appeared first, fingers splayed, reaching for nothing. Then the body spilled forward, folding gracelessly onto the platform. Passengers screamed, scattered, then circled back, curiosity beating with horror. Mara reached him quickly, though every instinct begged her backward. The man's throat gaped sideways, neat as an opened envelope. No blood flowed; it glittered, dark and clotted, already cooling. In his fist lay a ticket, edges torn, numbers smeared. On her own ticket, Mara recognized the same smeared numbers.