Run: 2026-09-23-01M37Q01D81K86Q45NH1FCVVXM

The rain had not stopped for three days when Inspector Clara Voss arrived at the iron gates of Ashworth Manor. A constable waited beneath a black umbrella, his face pale and his hands trembling as he opened the car door. "The body is in the library, ma'am," he said quietly, glancing back at the dark windows of the old house. Clara nodded once and followed him up the gravel path, her boots sinking slightly into the mud with every step. Inside, the grand hall smelled of candle wax and wet wool, and somewhere a clock ticked with patient, measured indifference. Five people stood waiting near the staircase, each of them wearing the careful expression of someone with something to hide. Lord Edmund Ashworth lay slumped in a leather armchair beside the fireplace, a crystal glass shattered on the rug below. His eyes were open, fixed upon the portrait of his wife, as though she were the last thing he saw. Clara crouched beside the chair and noticed a faint smell of bitter almonds rising from the stain on his lips. "Nobody leaves this house tonight," she said, standing slowly and turning to face the silent guests gathered in the doorway. Behind her, the clock struck midnight, and for a moment every person in the room seemed to stop breathing entirely.