Run: 2026-03-06-01KK1GFJE3K3KM962A7ZE19X78

Rain hammered Blackthorn Hall as mourners gathered, umbrellas dripping like broken wings beneath gargoyles that watched the funeral with stone patience. Inside, candles guttered along the corridor, casting trembling halos over portraits whose lacquered eyes seemed unwilling to forgive anyone. When the clock struck midnight, Evelyn Harrow opened her father's study door and found his body arranged behind the desk. A chess king rested in his palm, crimson smeared across the ivory, while the window stood open to stormwinds. No one heard her scream above the thunder, yet every guest arrived breathless moments later, each carrying silence suspiciously.