By midnight, attendance had swelled to a hundred guests. Due to the size of the tent and the whole property in general, it didn’t feel crowded, and the party maintained an intimate, relaxed vibe. Various groups of colorfully costumed people scattered through all the areas, but the beating heart of the party was Beatrice, who was now decked out in a white bikini and red angel wings, a scantily clad Cupid holding court on the Turkish gabbeh rug in the couch area. Beatrice wasn’t a hostess who liked to circulate, mainly because she was either barefoot or in five-inch heels. She much preferred to sit and have the party come to her. Sitting with her now were Adaka, dressed as Serena Williams (though it was doubtful the tennis legend ever wore a hot-pink thong under her tennis skirts); Livingston, whose costume consisted of an eclectic mix of random accessories: a top hat, a leather tool belt, a vintage Sex Pistols T-shirt, and a tutu (she was her own version of Wonder Woman, as in “I wonder who she’s supposed to be?”); Rooster, sorely lacking in the imagination department, who wore his football jersey; and a couple dressed as a fire emoji and a poop emoji signifying that they were “hot shit.”

John Wick and Cher were on the dance floor with two dozen others showing off their fancy footwork to Twenty One Pilots’ “Tear in My Heart.” Lolly, already drunk from whatever was in Beatrice’s punch bowl and high from a no-nonsense whack off the hookah, spotted him first. Her first thought was, Wow, that guy over there is dressed like my dad, which made her start to giggle, and the woman he was with was wearing a long sleeve Alessandra Rich polka-dot dress, making her the only female at the party trying to cover up her goods rather than flaunt them.This reminded her that she wanted to sneak back into the house and go peek in all the other bedrooms before they were filled with drunken couples making out.

“Steven, doesn’t that guy look like my dad?” Lolly said, still giggling. “Sorry, sorry, I mean, John Wick, doesn’t that guy look like my dad?” She turned Steven around so he could see the man she rudely pointed at.

Steven stopped dancing, his face serious. “Fuck!” he said in a low voice. “That’s Alexander and Eleanor.”

Lolly danced in a circle with her hands in the air, not processing what Steven had just said. He put his arms on her shoulders and leaned in close, so she assumed he was about to kiss her and tilted her chin up in anticipation. “Babe,” he whispered. “You need to focus. We need to find Anna before they do. I’ll go talk to them and you go find Anna. Can you do that for me?”