10
“Welcome to the new book club,” Ivy said, greeting each guest as they arrived in the newly renovated literary section. Upstairs, Poppy was directing people to the lower level.
Shelly stood beside her, offering guests a cup of mint tea or a glass of virgin Sea Breeze Cooler. Some guests had brought bottles of wine and plates of appetizers.
“I wonder if they come for the food and drinks or the books,” Shelly whispered. “Only a few guests are abstaining. And me, of course.”
“Put me down for tea as well,” Ivy said. “I should keep my wits about me tonight.”
Ivy didn’t want to tell Shelly what happened when she came down to open the windows earlier this evening. Not that she saw anything—it was more of a feeling of being watched, crazy as that seemed. She didn’t have a sense of forebodin
