Run: 2026-03-09-01KK9QRPWQ5C2TYG3A2E5PVZAR

Rain worried the windows while Blackthorn Manor held its breath. Inside, silver candlesticks trembled above portraits with watchful, varnished eyes. At midnight, the grandfather clock struck, then seemed ashamed afterward. Houseguests paused mid-laughter when a scream unstitched the dining room. They found Lord Wren collapsed beside dessert, throat blooming scarlet. His champagne glass glittered innocently, though almonds haunted the air. No door had opened, yet someone wiped rainwater indoors carefully. Before dawn arrived, every guest would lie, and one vanish.