“Thank you, darling. You are so sweet.” Pia, who I suspected had been sipping from a flask, actually stood on tiptoe and kissed Paul on the cheek. If it wasn’t so ridiculous, I might’ve been offended. Paul smiled and patted her on the arm awkwardly, then left.

I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders. In the kitchen window that overlooked the porch, our reflections caught my eye. Four women in white, the flickering candles in our hands illuminating our faces.

Angels.

Ghosts.

“Ready?” I asked, turning to face the others.

All at once, all four of our candles went out.

“Wind,” I said impatiently. “Bettina, you have the lighter?”

“I do.” Her voice was quiet. She relit her candle. “There wasn’t a breeze,” she said.

“No, it was demon breath,” Pia said. “The evil spirits don’t want us collecting money for the children.”

“Do you have to be the biggest bitch about everything?” Bettina snapped at Pia.

“No, I leave some things for you, my dear.”

“Guys!” I said.

“Can we please not pick at each other?” Alice asked. “Please? And remember, I have to be done by nine or my mother-in-law will kill me. She gets tired so early.”

With our candles lit again, I led them out into the night.

We walked solemnly down the path to the lake, holding our hands in front of our candles so the flames wouldn’t extinguish again. Paul had been right—good turnout, I noticed as we descended. Volunteer students and parents from Ivy Woods had distributed small candles, complete with a white cardboard circle around them to catch wax drippings. Everyone would help light each other’s candles once the program began.

The crowd turned and watched as we approached. Stand straight, shoulders back. Suck in the tummy. I scanned the faces. There was Maggie Lewis moving through the crowd like a toxic sludge, in an ill-fitting button-down black shirt and puffy vest.

Was she really here to cover this event for an innocent feature? Or was it more sinister?

I swallowed the wave of doubt that lapped inside and stuck my chin out. No one was going to control us.

We were the Ivy Five, glowing in white as dusk fell. My tunic was long-sleeved, but the thin material allowed the brisk wind to push right through. I knew the others were chilly, too—but it was always better to look good than to feel good. Pia’s dress was long and flowy. Bettina had chosen skinny white jeans, a white T-shirt, and a white jean jacket. And Alice was wearing a white sweater and skirt that hit mid-calf, with white furry boots she’d found on clearance at Ross last year.

We were always the star attraction at Full Moon.

The marching band finished its song as we glided to the podium. I took the microphone first, addressing the crowd.