Run: 2026-02-24-01KJ8V0Z27KQMXC364YBTSQCP2

The body lay crumpled at the foot of the grand staircase, her pale hands still clutching a torn red envelope. Detective Harris arrived at the Whitmore estate just after midnight, cold rain dripping from his coat onto the marble floor. No one had heard a scream, and yet the expression frozen on her face suggested she had seen something terrible. The other guests were gathered in the drawing room, each wearing a careful mask of shock and quiet, practiced composure. Lord Whitmore stood by the fireplace, swirling brandy in a crystal glass, refusing to look anyone directly in the eye. His young wife, Catherine, sat in the corner, her silk dress stained with something dark that she refused to explain. The detective noted that every single person in the room had a reason to want the dead woman silenced forever. Outside, thunder rolled across the moors, and the only road leading away from the estate had flooded beyond any crossing. They were all trapped together now, the killer among them, and the long night was only just beginning to unfold. Harris pulled a notebook from his coat pocket and turned to face the room with a gaze that missed nothing.