Run: 2026-03-09-01KKAC8P9GGMZHF7WN1KBNCCXT

Rain worried the windows of Blackthorn Hall as guests arrived dripping, unaware the evening would end with one chair empty. At precisely eight, Lady Vale welcomed them smiling, her pearls luminous against mourning silk, while thunder rehearsed beyond the cliffs. Detective Elias Ward attended reluctantly, summoned for dinner not duty, yet noting every handshake, hesitation, and glance toward locked doors. The host, Professor Bell, raised a crystal glass to absent friends, though his gaze lingered longest on the returned widow. Candles bent in sudden drafts, silver chimed softly, and somewhere above them a floorboard creaked like a cautious confession overhead. When the lamps failed, darkness entered eagerly, and a single gunshot cracked the room apart like splitting winter ice cleanly. Light returned to reveal Professor Bell collapsed beside the fireplace, his glass shattered, his shirtfront blossoming with impossible red blood. Nobody moved until Ward stooped beside the body, then looked up grimly, certain everyone present had already begun lying beautifully.