Run: 2026-09-02-01M1GRPFD1Q4YW786Q6VMK0GJ1

The rain hammered relentlessly against the tall windows of Blackwood Manor as the guests gathered for dinner that fateful evening. Lord Edmund Havisham raised his glass of aged port and toasted the good health of everyone seated around his table. Nobody noticed that his hand was trembling slightly, or that his face had gone terribly pale in the flickering candlelight. At precisely nine o'clock, the butler entered the dim dining room carrying a silver tray with the evening's final dessert. Minutes later, a terrible crash broke the lively conversation as the old lord collapsed face down upon the polished table. His wine glass shattered against the hardwood floor, spilling dark red liquid that spread like fresh blood across the boards. Doctor Priscilla Marsh rushed immediately to his side, pressing two trembling fingers against his neck while shouting loudly for help. She looked up slowly at the horrified faces surrounding her and spoke the words that nobody wished to hear tonight. Lord Edmund Havisham was dead, and somewhere among the assembled guests at dinner, his hidden murderer sat quietly eating dessert. Outside, the winter storm raged on, sealing every road and ensuring that nobody would leave this house before dawn arrived.