Run: 2026-10-05-01M46BGKYJN49DSBDPEM5HFZBT

Rain battered Blackthorn Manor while midnight bells drowned distant screams. Detective Clara Vale arrived carrying an invitation nobody remembered sending. The butler opened silently, his white gloves stained with ink. Inside, seven dinner guests stood motionless around an untouched dessert. Their host lay beneath the chandelier, smiling through bloody teeth. A silver knife protruded neatly from his embroidered silk waistcoat. Clara recognized the weapon before she recognized the dead man. She had buried that knife beside her father last winter. Nobody spoke until the grandfather clock began striking thirteen times. Then someone upstairs laughed, although every guest stood before her.