Run: 2026-02-16-01KHM5Y11FVG78X96PP92G4QQR

A grand clock chimed midnight within the lavish, isolated manor on the hill. Detective Aris Thorne observed the bloodied study with immediate, deep professional concern. The victim was Lord Casterly, a reclusive collector of rare and cursed artifacts. His final acquisition, a jagged obsidian dagger, remained lodged within his chest. No windows were broken; the single oak door stayed firmly locked. Yet the butler swore he heard two distinct voices arguing before. Casterly’s final gesture pointed toward his own meticulously organized bookshelf strangely. Every suspect possessed both motive and opportunity, alibis fraying under simple questioning. A storm severed the telephone lines, trapping them all with a killer. Thorne knew the first twenty words often concealed the final truth.