Run: 2026-03-06-01KK1GRVVWT0A438VY15HM06ME

Rain battered Blackthorn Hall as mourners gathered for Lady Wren's funeral. Inside, candlelight trembled across portraits whose eyes seemed almost accusatory. Detective Mara Vale removed her gloves and studied every face. Grief looked rehearsed here, she thought, like lines memorized badly. A scream shattered prayers when the vicar opened the crypt. Lady Wren's coffin lay empty, its satin lining freshly torn. Then someone laughed upstairs, exactly where no guest should be. Mara reached for her notebook as thunder smothered every answer. On the staircase, wet footprints gleamed, leading upward toward darkness. Before anyone moved, the manor lights died, and something fell.