Run: 2026-03-06-01KK1HC4PXP51EPVJCZW2EQEQY

Rain glazed Blackthorn Manor as mourners gathered beneath iron lanterns. Lady Vale arrived late, her veil snagged on bramble thorns. Inside, the grandfather clock coughed midnight, though supper had ended. A violin whispered upstairs, where no musician had slept. Servants exchanged glances, then lowered eyes toward polished floorboards. Detective Rowan Pike noticed mud staining the marble foyer. No carriage should have crossed the washed-out eastern bridge tonight. Then Aunt Eugenia screamed, dropping her silver gospel onto tiles. In the library, Lord Halberd slumped beside extinguished embers, lifeless. A chess king rested inside his open, bloodless hand.