I don’t belong here…

The thought echoed in my mind repeatedly as I took in the string of sports cars and limousines that were lined up down the driveway of the mansion. For what felt like the hundredth time, I frowned down at the envelope clutched in my hand.

It must be a mistake.

“Miss? Do you want me to get in line?”

“No, that’s okay. Can you just drop me somewhere near the gate?”

“Sure thing.”

I didn’t want to be the only one waiting in line in a taxi, plus I really couldn’t afford to keep the meter running. The ride from my studio apartment to the outskirts of the city already put a sizable dent in my fun money.

Yet even though my mind screamed that this was a mistake—it had been screaming it ever since the invitation arrived in my mailbox—I still came tonight. I still allowed the taxi to drive away and leave me stranded here. I still scraped together some money to buy a costume.

Though I clearly hadn’t pulled together enough. I hesitantly approached the entrance of the mansion, tugging unconsciously at my inexpensive outfit as I watched a woman dressed in a luxurious white dress and angel wings hand her invitation to the man waiting at the door.

They exchanged a few words and he scanned a scroll that I assumed was the guest list before gesturing her inside. With a flip of her honey blonde hair, she was gone.

The doorman’s eyes flicked over to me standing awkwardly nearby. His gaze swept over my costume and an eyebrow crept up toward the sky.

“Name?”

“Evelyn Smith,” I replied, clutching the envelope and trying not to shuffle on my feet as he scanned the list.

After a brief moment of mutual silence, his eyebrow quirked even higher.

“Invitation?”

“O-Of course,” I said as I handed over the fancy envelope.

I practically gaped at him as he pursed his lips while studying the card. Did he seriously just pull out a flashlight to check for authenticity? I recalled the TSA doing the same thing with my passport before a flight to Rome during a school trip.

Just how exclusive was this party? Or better yet—how the hell did I end up getting invited?

Now more than ever, I was sure this was a mistake. Someone was pulling my chain and I let the taxi drive off without me. I was going to end up standing around waiting for another while the real guests gave me distasteful looks.

How humiliating.

“I can’t let you in, ma’am.”

“I understand. I’m sorry to waste your time. I should have known—”

“Did you even read the invitation?” he snapped, cutting me off mid-sentence. “It clearly states that this is a masquerade. Masks must be worn at all times. I can’t let you in without a mask.”

Wait, what? That was the problem?

“Jonas! See if there are any more spare masks in the coat room. You might as well bring out all the ones you find.”

The burly man waiting nearby gave a curt nod and disappeared into the house while the doorman glared at me. He seemed to be exceptionally irritated, which led me to believe that I wasn’t the only one who had shown up without a mask.

“I-I’m sorry. I honestly forgot about that and—”

“You weren’t the only one,” he muttered in annoyance. “Not that I’m surprised. This is the sixth Halloween party we’ve held here, but it’s the first time the party has been a masquerade. Please be aware that security has been instructed to be on the lookout for anyone taking off their mask. Those guests will be removed from the party immediately. Once it goes on—do not take it off.”

Jonas returned right as he finished speaking, carrying a box under one arm. He placed it on the ground behind the small podium and said, “This is everything I could find. I’ll give Fiona a call to see if the host prepared for this.”

The doorman crouched down and plucked through the items until settling on a beautiful black mask. He handed it to me—the stern look never wavering—and waited for me to tie it behind my head.

“You may enter.”

I took a step toward the door but hesitated at the last moment. When he acknowledged me again, I asked, “Who is the host?”

His lips twitched for the first time. With his head cocked to the side, he mechanically drawled, “That information will only be revealed when the host decides it’s time.”

The answer was less than informative, but it didn’t take a genius to realize I was being dismissed. A finely dressed couple exited a limousine and the doorman’s attention left me completely.

“Miss?”

I jolted a bit and turned to Jonas who gave me an apologetic smile. There was a brief moment where I swore I knew this man. I had met him before, if only in passing. But as I tried to grab hold of the thin thread of recognition, he began opening the door and it blocked the majority of his frame from my view.

“Are you going in?”

“Y-Yeah. Thank you.”

As I stepped forward, he whispered, “Have a magical evening.”

The door closed behind me with a sense of finality and I couldn’t help but wonder what I had just walked into.