Claudine put the guest list into her purse and picked up one of the magazines to memorize a few more details about Zara and her recent breakup with heavily tattooed goth rocker Liam Loch.

One of the biggest questions is who will get custody of Pip, the cute rescue Pomeranian that Zara and Liam adopted shortly after they started dating.

Claudine hoped it was him. She hated dogs. She didn’t need that fur ball running around Montague House, shedding everywhere, pissing in the corners. Small dogs especially were attention suckers.

She had to admit, there was something poetic about the entire situation. Zara was obviously hoping Montague House would be a new chapter, a fresh beginning—just like it had been for Claudine. That five-acre plot of land had rescued her, set her life on a different trajectory. Now all these years later it would serve the same purpose for Zara.

She checked the time on her Cartier Tank Anglaise: 2:45 p.m. She was supposed to meet the caterer at Montague House at 5:00 p.m. No time for lunch. Not like she had planned on it, she hadn’t been eating much the past few days. There were leather Balenciaga pants to fit into. After the salon, she’d hurry back to the office to check in with her staff, change into her outfit for the night, and grab her White Elephant gift. She had to say, in all her years of the game, it was maybe the best gift she’d ever chosen. Not the most expensive, but likely to draw the most gasps.

She tossed the magazine back on the pile, reached once more into her purse, and took out the thin wooden invitation. Made from reclaimed wood salvaged from last summer’s fires near Basalt and embossed with gold-leaf lettering:

Cocktails + Hors d’oeuvres 6 p.m.

White Elephant Exchange 7 p.m. Sharp

There was a festive touch of deep cranberry stain around the edges. Later on, when reporters were interviewing the guests and trying to put together a timeline of the night, Captain Tiggleman would say they should have known something was terribly wrong from the beginning. Even the invitation looked like it had been dipped in blood.

Zara

I want to go on record saying I was not the one who brought that gift to the party. It couldn’t have been me. Look at the facts: I’d only flown in that day, I’d never met any of these people, and I didn’t know what a White Elephant game was until Claudine told me. Sure, yes, I brought a gift; we all did. That was the point. But no way did I bring that gift. Don’t even think it.