Run: 2026-03-09-01KK9PSKQ46FT84QF86XV5GPKD

Rain needled the manor windows as Inspector Vale arrived, summoned before dawn by a trembling footman who refused entering alone. In the library, the clock had stopped at three, and Lady Harrow lay beside the hearth, smiling unnaturally in death. A chessboard waited on the table, black queen toppled, while six untouched glasses caught lightning like accusing eyes that night. No door stood open, no window unlatched, yet mud glistened across the Persian rug in deliberate, inward footsteps from outside. Vale removed his gloves, noticing the victim's wedding ring missing, though a pale band remained upon her finger still visible. Then the butler whispered that everyone in the house had heard the scream, and nobody admitted hearing it twice tonight. Vale looked again at Lady Harrow's smile and understood, with sudden dread, that someone had posed her after death.