“I’m here! I accept! Delilah Monroe, at your service.”
In the whole time I’d known her, I’d never seen Delilah look so excited. Her face was lit up, her features childlike with joy. She jumped up and down. “I accept! I accept!”
Was this guy from the lottery? Or some kind of sweepstakes and Delilah had just won?
She stuck her hand into the man’s face. “Where’s my invitation? I accept!” She laughed with giddiness.
But the man’s expression didn’t budge. He looked at Delilah like someone might an animal at a zoo. Like she was a creature of little interest and he was already bored with her.
While she was still jumping up and down, the cool-eyed man began to survey the rest of the room. He looked to be in his late fifties, early sixties at the latest. His skin was tan in a way that belied his fine duds—like he’d spent plenty of time outside. But the way he held himself and the elegant way his gray hair was pomaded back spoke of a cultured background at odds with the patch of red on the back of his neck from recent sun exposure.
This was definitely the most fascinating thing that had happened at Bill’s in recent memory and frankly, after the day I’d had, I was happy for the distraction the stranger provided. I leaned against the counter and watched to see what would happen next.
But I was completely unprepared for the stranger’s eyes to stop on me and pause in recognition. I glanced behind me, sure he was looking at someone else. But there was no one there.
And when I looked back, he was already walking in my direction.
“Miss Grace Magnolia Morgan. I am honored to convey this invitation.”
He bowed in front of me—actually bowed—and then handed me a thick, cream-colored envelope.
“What is…”
But I took the envelope because what else do you do when someone hands you something?
“We look forward to your attendance.”
With that, he turned on his heel and left the same way he’d come.
What the hell was that? Murmurs immediately broke out across the diner. People picked up their phones and started texting. I had no doubt the gossip about the mysterious stranger would be all over town within the hour.
Suddenly the envelope in my hand felt like it weighed a hundred pounds.
I ripped it open and then felt terrible about tearing the beautiful paper envelope. There was even a red wax seal on the back.
But I couldn’t stop. I yanked out the single sheet of paper inside. It was heavy card stock and reminded me of a wedding invitation. Was that what this was? Was I related to someone rich and I just didn’t know it? Like, they’d hunted down even obscure family to invite to a fancy wedding they were having.
But when my eyes skimmed the wording of the invitation, I was only more confused.
THE ORDER OF THE SILVER GHOST
Requests the honor of your presence
MS. GRACE MAGNOLIA MORGAN
As we prepare for the celebration of The Trials of Initiation
SATURDAY THE EIGHTEENTH OF SEPTEMBER
At half past seven in the evening
OLEANDER MANOR
109 Oleander Lane
Attendance mandatory
What the hell did that mean?
“What’s it say?” someone called.
“Let me see!” said another.
“Pass it around!”
I pressed the card to my chest and looked around. Every eye in the diner was on me. I looked for Delilah. Black tears ran down her face as her mascara ran in dark rivulets down her cheeks. She looked crushed.
I strode over to her, grabbed her hand, pulled her outside and around the edge of the building toward the alley. She was the only one who seemed to know what was going on.
“Delilah, what does this all mean?”
“It means”—she hiccupped and swiped at her eyes, only smearing her mascara more—“that you’re the luckiest girl in the world.”
“We’ve got to get back.” I looked over to the diner. “Bill will—”
“Fuck Bill,” Delilah waved my concern off. “Do you even realize what just happened back there? Oh my God, your life just changed, and you don’t even realize it yet. You can be so dumb sometimes.”
“Hey!” I smacked her arm.
“Sorry,” she said, crossing her arms. “But I would kill for the opportunity you just got.”
I lifted the invitation. “What is it?” I looked back down at the invitation. “Seems like some sort of prank.”
Delilah’s hand smacked across my mouth. “Don’t disrespect The Order of the Silver Ghost. They're probably listening to us right now.”
I looked around at the abandoned alley and lifted a disbelieving eyebrow at my friend. Maybe she’d been getting into more than just hard liquor lately.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m serious. They’re powerful.”
“Who are they?”
“No one knows. It’s a secret society. And they take their secrecy real serious.”
“So how do you know about them?”
“Oh, everybody knows about them.” She waved a black-fingernailed hand at me.
I scoffed. “Some secret society.”