Run: 2026-07-25-01KYCRPG5BF80R5Z6DFBS0P7KG

The rain had stopped, but the gutters still kept talking. Detective Aisling Moore crossed the threshold at half past four. The house smelled of lilies, lemon polish, and something else. Beneath the chandelier lay a man in a grey suit. His left hand still held a glass of untouched champagne. The wound was small, precise, and hidden beneath his collar. Nobody had thought to close his eyes, she noted grimly. Twelve guests waited in the library, still wearing their masks. Somebody among them had lied already, and would lie again. Aisling removed her gloves and asked who found the body. Eleven hands stayed down; the twelfth rose, trembling, very slowly. The girl wore red silk and no mask at all. Outside, thunder answered, and the lights failed for three seconds. When light returned, the champagne glass was no longer there.