Run: 2026-03-25-01KMJ8DDXWAR35NVCWR0WT5K6H

The storm crashed against the manor's stained-glass windows. A single candle burned in the library where he lay dead. His hand still clutched the letter sealed with crimson wax. The crack of thunder drowned the gasp of the startled maid. Detective Voss arrived, coat sodden, eyes sharp with suspicion. Portraits lined the corridor, their silences heavy with secrets. A broken clock showed minutes until the first guests arrive. The butler claimed he heard nothing beyond the storm's fury. The widow's tears fell like rain, but Voss saw a tremor in her hand. Each guest carried a past, each shadow a potential weapon. As midnight struck, the killer knew the game had just begun.