Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYA0RG5YWDCDE5NGREE3S63

The rain drummed against the old Victorian’s peeling paint as dawn broke over Hollow Creek. A single candle flickered in the library’s drafty window, casting long, trembling shadows on the floor. Detective Mara Voss adjusted her coat, her breath fogging in the chilly morning air outside. The butler’s stiff posture suggested he’d seen something far worse than this morning’s tea service. A bloodstained letter lay crumpled beneath the grand piano, its edges singed by fire. The victim’s last words, scrawled in frantic ink, read: *"He’ll pay for the truth."* Mara’s gloved fingers brushed the letter, feeling the dampness seeping into the parchment. Neighbors whispered about the reclusive collector who’d vanished without a trace last night. The housekeeper’s trembling voice revealed she’d heard a struggle near the conservatory at midnight. A single gunshot echoed through the halls, though no weapon remained in the library’s chaos. The detective’s sharp eyes caught a loose thread on the victim’s sleeve, torn violently. Outside, a black sedan’s headlights cut through the mist, its engine still warm. The butler’s knuckles turned white around the teacup, his grip unnaturally tight. Mara’s instincts screamed this wasn’t an accident—someone had planned this carefully. The letter’s seal bore the initials of a rival collector, one known for ruthless deals. A faint scent of lavender lingered, clashing with the copper tang of old blood. The conservatory’s glass doors stood ajar, though the night had been unseasonably cold. Mara’s pulse quickened as she spotted a single, muddy boot print near the doorframe. The butler’s story wavered when she asked about the collector’s last known whereabouts. A locked drawer in the study held only a half-empty glass of whiskey and ashes. The victim’s journal, left open on the desk, ended with a name no one could confirm. Mara’s mind raced, piecing together clues like fragments of a shattered mirror. The housekeeper’s eyes darted toward the front door, where footsteps echoed in the hall. A final, chilling detail: the victim’s pocket watch had stopped at exactly midnight.