Run: 2026-07-25-01KYCRPABA3GF1AEWBXQ8YF3A8

Rain hammered the greenhouse roof like impatient fingers demanding entry. Detective Inspector Maren Holt stepped carefully around the shattered glass. The body lay among the orchids, face turned politely away. Sir Edmund Vale had died holding a single white rose. Nobody in this house grew roses, Maren noted with interest. Four guests waited in the drawing room, drinking cold tea. Each one had lied already, though she couldn't prove it. The gardener claimed the doors were locked from within, always. Yet someone had walked out leaving footprints in wet soil. Maren crouched, measuring the print against her own small hand. Whoever killed him had feet smaller than a grown child's. Behind her, the greenhouse door clicked shut, then locked softly. Maren straightened slowly, keeping her breathing shallow and completely silent. Somewhere among the orchids, someone else was breathing too.