Run: 2026-03-06-01KK1GDWWF84K9TBVMHWVCZ6D0

Rain hammered Blackthorn Manor as guests arrived shivering, unaware that before dawn one among them would lie murdered upstairs. At supper, silver gleamed beneath candlelight while Lady Vale smiled too brightly, concealing dread behind practiced laughter and jeweled fingers. A telegram rested unopened beside her plate, its sender unnamed, its message heavy enough to silence every servant nearby. When the clock struck nine, the library doors swung open, and Colonel Ashcroft entered carrying mud, whiskey, and fear. No one noticed the missing portrait then, nor the faint red smear darkening the banister toward the locked east wing. Only the butler paused, listening hard, as something soft thudded overhead and the chandelier trembled above their wine.