Run: 2026-09-23-01M37HPV3D12WR9YYXMZ7HGHBN

At midnight the bells of Saint Agnes rang thirteen times, and every light in Blackthorn House went out without warning. Detective Mara Vale arrived before dawn, summoned by a telephone call that ended with a distant scream and broken glass. Inside, the household waited beneath a chandelier, their faces pale except for the butler, whose cuffs were stained dark red. The victim lay upstairs in the locked library, seated behind his desk, with a fresh rose pressed between his lips. His name was Edwin Blackthorn, and someone had written an apology across the window in letters made of gray ash. Mara read the message twice, then noticed the ash remained undisturbed on the cold hearth beside the recently murdered man. Outside, snow covered the garden paths, but only one set of footprints led toward the house from the iron gate. None led away, although the front door had been bolted from within since dinner, according to every trembling household witness. Then the butler whispered that Blackthorn had ordered the roses burned that morning, three days after the local florist vanished.