Run: 2026-09-10-01M25DFX4E680KZT2HZ03KS1QY

Rain hammered the black umbrellas as Detective Mara Voss stepped beneath the iron gate of Hollow House at midnight exactly. A butler with a trembling candle led her through halls where portraits seemed to watch her every move silently tonight. The study door stood open, and inside, a wealthy industrialist sat slumped over his oak desk with a silver knife. Blood had soaked the ledger beneath his cheek, and the fireplace crackled as if nothing happened at all here tonight. Mara noticed no weapon in his hand, no signs of struggle, and no footprints on the carpet near the door. Only a single red rose lay beside the inkwell, its petals perfect and wet with morning dew despite the rain. The butler said nobody entered or left, yet the locked window stood slightly open behind the desk when we arrived. Mara touched the dead man's wrist, felt no warmth, and saw a tiny puncture beneath his collar hidden by silk. Thunder shook the chandelier as she whispered, 'Someone in this house wanted him dead before dawn,' and truly meant it. Outside, the storm pressed against glass, while every servant gathered below with nervous faces and silent tongues awaiting her questions. Mara looked at the rose again and realized the stem was fresh, but the bloom had no thorn at all. She slipped it into an evidence bag, then asked who had arranged the flowers in this room before he died. A maid gasped, the butler stiffened, and a young gardener dropped his brass watering can loudly onto the marble floor. Mara smiled without joy, because in that small sound she heard the first lie of many yet to come tonight. The clock in the hall struck one, and the murdered man's study seemed colder than before as shadows lengthened everywhere.