This audiobook is narrated by a digital voice.

The antique music box sat silent on the mahogany desk, its delicate ballerina frozen mid-pirouette as Detective Elena Vasquez examined the crime scene with practiced eyes. The mansion's library, once a sanctuary of leather-bound volumes and scholarly pursuits, now bore the unsettling marks of an intrusion that had left no fingerprints, no forced entry, and no logical explanation.

"Third break-in this month, and still nothing stolen," muttered Officer Rodriguez, flipping through his notepad with obvious frustration. "The homeowner insists someone's been inside, moving things around, but there's never any evidence of theft."

Elena crouched beside the antique desk, her trained gaze catching details that others might miss. A thin layer of dust had been disturbed around the music box, forming an almost perfect circle as if someone had carefully lifted and replaced it. The pattern was too precise to be accidental, too deliberate to be meaningless.

"What does Dr. Blackwood say about the timing?" she asked, referring to the mansion's reclusive owner who had inherited the sprawling estate from his late uncle six months ago.

"He's been staying in the east wing mostly. Says he barely uses this part of the house." Rodriguez gestured toward the towering bookshelves that lined the walls from floor to ceiling. "Claims he was in his study when he heard footsteps in here around midnight, but by the time he investigated, whoever it was had vanished."