Run: 2026-10-05-01M46B4HY69C93Q9EAGY1R9RDF

By midnight, the storm had swallowed Blackthorn House whole again. Inspector Vale arrived carrying a suitcase and somebody else's invitation. The butler studied his face before unlocking the iron gates. Inside, thirteen guests stood silently beneath a chandelier dripping candlewax. Nobody mentioned the empty chair beside their host's untouched wine. A woman's scream interrupted before Vale could remove his coat. They found Lord Blackthorn seated comfortably behind his locked door. His throat was cut, but his shirt remained perfectly clean. Across the desk lay thirteen envelopes, each addressed in red. Vale recognized his own name on the envelope lying uppermost. The handwriting belonged to someone he had buried years ago. Inside, five words awaited him: You killed the wrong man.