Run: 2026-03-09-01KKACDBMZSYVW2PEDN3MDZSD0

Rain needled the manor windows as midnight swallowed Blackthorn Hall. Inside, twelve guests lingered silently around the unfinished anniversary supper. A clock chimed once, then stopped, as though startled itself. Lady Morwen appeared smiling, carrying champagne, secrets, and crimson lipstick. She toasted absent husbands, faithful friends, and profitable lies tonight. Then darkness fell abruptly, and someone screamed beside the hearth. When candles returned, Lady Morwen lay motionless beneath toppled roses. The champagne bottle glittered nearby, uncorked, accusing everyone without preference. On her throat, a pearl necklace tightened like patient fingers. No door had opened, yet one guest was missing already.