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I look up at the sky, the stars hardly visible due to the bright lights surrounding the building, and let out a deep breath, my eagerness getting the better of me.
There are two sets of stairs with a fountain separating each of them.
My leg falls through the slit in my dress as I ascend the stairs. My mask is gold with red gems framing the eyes. I pull it onto my face and tie the back in a bow.
There are so many people here, and I don’t have the slightest clue as to who any of them are. That’s what makes this fun.
My dress waves with the stride of my walk as I head through the grand doors. A woman hands me an envelope that is black with a silver tie wrapped around it.
At first glance, it’s overwhelming. Hanging lights fall from the ceiling, at least a hundred of them. My eyes wander the room, searching for Ana and Mama, but I have no idea where they went.
There are so many colors, mainly coming from the dresses. Each man is in a black tuxedo, making them all look the same.
When I was younger, I remember walking up to the dessert table and eating chocolate cookies, but times have changed.
I walk over to the bar and order a Moscow Mule. I never order this, but I don’t want the taste of alcohol, just the effects of it, and this is the perfect drink for that.
I rest one leg on the bar stool as a man with dark hair walks toward me. “You look beautiful,” he says with an accent. I have a feeling accents are the only way I will be able to get a sense of who each of these people are.
The bartender places the glass in front of me. I take a gulp.
“How could you know?” I say as I smirk.
“Your lipstick. Beautiful women wear red.”
“And what if I wasn’t wearing any?”
“You’d still be beautiful.”
I narrow my eyes at him, my lashes hitting the mask. “You’re cocky.”
“What’s your name?” he asks.
I shake my head slowly. “You’re missing the point of this,” I say, but I am interrupted by the sound of my papa’s voice on the speaker.
He clears his throat as everyone directs their attention to him. “Thank you all for coming.” His eyes scan the room, searching for his wife. “We have not done this in years. It is a privilege to have you all here today. The card you received at the door holds the role you will have tonight. Your identity must stay hidden, otherwise this will be pointless.”
Everyone laughs, myself included as I open my card.
“There are roughly two hundred people here tonight, many of us family, and most of us bonded by time. Tonight is a celebration of my wife . . . whom I cannot find, but that’s what makes this a mystery, am I right?”
Loud cheers fill the room, and glasses are lifted.
“We have two murderers on our hands. They have killed six people here; it is your duty to solve this murder. Just because we have six dead does not mean more cannot fall. Be wary, watch your back, learn who to trust.”
My eyes fall as I realize there are more than two real murderers in this room right now. But I don’t want that to change my views on this night. My hand scratches the back of my neck when I read the words on my card.
Murderer.
“You can work together, but remember, you never know who you can trust. However, you may connect with your partner under the masks. You may meet the love of your life, just as I met mine.
“To Miliana!” he shouts into the microphone as music overrides his voice.
People begin to squirm around, rushing to figure out who committed the crime.
I look in the envelope and see red sticky notes. I assume if I place one on someone, they are eliminated from the game, presumed dead. Excitement floods my veins. I take my drink off the bar top, glancing at the mystery man.
“Partners?” His hand extends toward mine. I look down at it and shake my head.
