Chapter 4
Malena
Acouple of days after finding the mask, I was still figuring out how I wanted to approach the feature—assuming my half-cocked idea of party crashing worked.
I walked out to the living room and discovered two bowls with yogurt and granola sitting next to each other on the coffee table.
Morning light flooded the room, and Cora’s laptop was propped on a stack of magazines.
Sabrina had only been gone a few days and we’d already deduced that morning or afternoon calls worked best since she was six hours ahead of us.
Cora held a mug and pointed her chin at the one waiting for me on a ceramic coaster.
I sat on the thick emerald-green carpet next to Cora and faced her laptop screen, grateful for the coffee she’d brewed us. I was in charge of cleaning since Cora had a firm grip on hostess duties.
“What’s up?” Sabrina asked, smiling brightly. We hadn’t planned to talk until she could properly settle in, but the mysterious invitation required a code, and I needed to run our plan by her.
“I need some help.” I twisted my fingers between my hands. “And I’m sorry, I know you wanted some peace before—”
“The election?” she finished for me. “Honestly, I love not thinking about it, so go ahead.”
Winchester was no stranger to the children of important families, which meant as long as Sabrina kept a low profile, she lived her life pretty normally. All of that was easier when there wasn’t an Alders in the White House. A reality that might soon change, with the election in a couple of months.
But as the daughter of a chemist and an engineer, I had no idea about how any of this rich-people stuff worked. Neither did Cora, whose parents were dentists. We needed Sabrina’s expertise.
“Okay, so…” I dived into my idea, unhinged details and all.
I’d crash the party and find an angle.
Fancy costumes and illicit affairs were to be expected, but I was sure there was more. Traditions, maybe rituals, a secret or two. Either way, it was one night and more direction for the Keller Award than I had a few days ago.
“Go in, get what you can, and get out.” Sabrina clapped her hands together on the screen. “Love it. And if there is one person who can lie themselves in and out of a situation, it’s you, Mal. Do it.”
I laughed and pulled the invitation out. “Great, because I scanned the invitation and a message popped up.” I showed her the prompt. “I need to input a code. It only allows one attempt.”
Sabrina inched her face closer to the screen. “It’s the same for every branch of Scroll & Ivy. Verbum Numquam Mori.”
I had her spell it out for me and inputted the password, and voilà. The next page populated.
“‘Outside the Radiant, tomorrow at 9:07. Black SUV, License Plate M0DP9I,’” I read aloud off my phone, scribbling the instructions down before I could forget. “Nine oh seven… That’s oddly specific.”
“Having everyone arrive at the same time isn’t exactly inconspicuous. A private car will pick you up and take you to another location,” Sabrina explained.
Everything that could possibly go wrong flashed in my mind. “They’re not going to like… hurt me, right?”
Sabrina’s laugh boomed from the speakers, so loud that it dissolved into static. “Oh my God, no, it’s a social club. They haven’t been true secret societies in decades. Besides, nobody goes that hard anymore with how easy it is to record things.”
When Cora and I didn’t say anything, Sabrina went on.
“Think fancy frat. Except there’s no rush week because invitations are passed down bloodlines.
Less beer in a keg, more cocktails on a yacht,” Sabrina encouraged.
“Worst-case scenario would be getting caught and thrown out, which you could just blame on me. Say I sent you, that’ll make you untouchable. ”
I nodded. It was a benefit of your best friend being the closest thing America had to a princess.
“Do the clubhouses really have secret passageways?” Cora asked, echoing my thoughts from a few days ago. It was one of those rogue pieces of lore that circled these legacy kids. Most we knew were straight-up rumors, just like the one about the catacombs. That was my personal favorite.
“I don’t know. My dad said the ones at Harvard were like the social clubs in Manhattan,” Sabrina offered. “Alums aren’t supposed to tell their kids what to expect, but my mom told me that Scroll & Ivy’s mausoleum is beautiful.” Sabrina looked at me. “If you go inside, I want details.”
Determination laced with excitement rolled through me.
I had a plan. This was going to work. It had to.
I saluted her and grinned at Cora. “I’ll report back.”