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Her hands absentmindedly touch her chest, pinching that little cross she wears.

“I can do it,” she offers, bowing her head. “Mama taught me many prayers.”

I press my fingertips together and bow my head, glaring at the boys until they get the message and lower their gazes as well. Bless Bax, who claps his hands, and Didi begins.

“Thank you, God, for the food we eat,

Thank you, God, for friends so sweet.

Thank you, God, for the birds that sing,

Thank you, God, for everything.

Amen.”

Tommy is shaking with laughter beside me, and Remy is chuckling, the two of them grinning like idiots. I toss a piece of food at my brother to shut him up, and Tommy follows suit. Luckily, Didi seems lost in her thoughts and doesn’t seem to notice how rude they are being.

She opens her eyes, and I take a sip of my wine. “Wonderful. Let us eat.”

Didi, to my surprise, has impeccable manners. She uses each fork appropriately, lays her napkin on her lap, and sits with very appealing posture.

She catches me watching. “You have nice manners,” I tell her, taking a small bite.

“Mama taught me the way around the table. Said you could take the girl out of the church, but you can’t take the church out of the girl. Manners are very important in church.”

“Indeed, they are.”

Lucy and Maribel have outdone themselves with this meal. I eat slowly, and no one says a peep during supper.

Only once I’m done do I wipe my mouth and say, “Do you understand what you are a part of now, Didi?”

“You are a cult,” she says.

I tilt my head back and laugh. “No. We are most certainly not a cult.”

She presses her lips together, the whites of her eyes dancing. “Then what would you call it?”

“Cults isolate people. They center on a leader, usually someone charismatic, and their members are stripped of their personal identity. Everyone at this table has a life outside these four walls. Each of us will eventually have a profession, a life, and families of our own. Does that sound like a cult to you?”

She swallows a bite of food and pins me with a stare. “Well, you certainly are charismatic.”

I give her a hint of a smile. “Good point. I would not consider us a cult, but that doesn’t mean we don’t follow a specific set of rules. We are the Order of Shadows, and our society has existed since this town’s founding.”

“I suspected,” she says, keeping her voice level. “The mask, the cutting, the blood… You kill people.” She pauses. “And everyone in this room is going to have to sacrifice someone.”

Her eyes flash as she considers me. Tension builds, everyone avoiding eye contact, pushing their food around their plates.

“That’s true, and an unfortunate part of our beliefs. Sacrifices are necessary because the potential gains are immense. We also believe in disrupting the natural order of things, bringing people close to death to show them the true beauty of life. Order from disorder. That’s our doctrine.”

I stare at her delicate fingers gripping her cross. “Does our doctrine scare you?”

She skims her eyes downward. “No.”

I smile sweetly. “Good.”

“None of us has ever actually seen this book,” Remy mutters.

I glare at him, and Didi frowns. “What does that mean?”