Flowing curtains adorned the school foyer and the hall leading to the gym. The curtain fabric was fastened to wooden dowels which hung above the lockers, blocking them from sight. On tables, flameless candles glowed. The decor gave the event an air of importance and mystery.

   Vesper remembered Sadie talking about how they made the curtains as a class project, sewing them together and adding decorative tassels and headers. But seeing everything pulled together made it easy for Vesper to imagine they’d travelled through time to a sixteenth-century Viennese masquerade. The most obvious difference, however, was the rumbling and shimmering waves of music pumping out of the gym speakers.

   Masked and caped teachers and parent volunteers greeted Vesper, Sadie and George at the door, took their tickets, and ushered them into the gym. As they passed, some of the teachers and parents commented on how great their costumes looked, how beautiful their masks were.

   “Looks like this is it,” Sadie said as they approached the gym. “C’mon!”

The music got louder and coloured lights flashed in the darkened room. Crowds of dancing masks, gowns, capes, wings, and other non-human appendages filled the space in the middle of the gym floor. The sixteenth century decor continued onto the walls of the gym, creating a cocoon of sheer curtains.

   “Whoa!” George exclaimed as he entered.

   “The curtains look so great, Sadie,” said Vesper.

   “I didn’t think they’d look this good,” Sadie admitted. “But with the lights and everything, it looks awesome!”

   “Thanks for walking in with me. I’m still a little nervous.”

   Sadie hooked her arm in Vesper’s.

   A crowd of masks turned toward them as they entered the gym and passed along the edge toward a punch table.

   “I’ll catch you guys later,” George said.

   “Have a hoot,” said Sadie.

   George waved, mostly to Vesper, as he walked off toward a group of his friends who were standing, incognito, in the back corner of the gym. His owl mask met his friends’ masks, and for longer than a moment they were all turned toward Vesper and Sadie, talking to each other.

   “Here, take one.” Sadie poured a cup of fruit punch for Vesper and one for herself. “Cheers, to friends.”

   “To friends,” echoed Vesper, and they drank their bright-red punch and scanned the surrounding scene. About half of the students danced while the other half spread out across the perimeter of the gym in conclaves of four or five Odd Fellows, conducting their secret meetings in safety behind their masks.

   “Oops! Sorry!” Etta Porter said as she purposely bumped her elbow into Sadie’s arm.

   “Uhh! Nice one, Porter,” said Sadie, who got the red punch all over her cuff.

Etta laughed and her entourage echoed. She was always leading around a gang of girls, and tonight was no exception. Hanging back on each side of Etta were Maxine Crawley and Laura Spector; all three of them were in matching black masks with long beaks.

   “Original costumes, girls. You and your creepy little flock can peck off somewhere else.”

   “I’ll be watching you, Sadie Green. You and your unicorn snowflake friend better not get in my way again,” threatened Etta.

Sadie stood her ground while Etta, Maxine, and Laura each marched by, staring her down.

   “Well, those girls haven’t changed,” said Vesper. “I’ve really missed them.”

Sadie laughed, and finished off her remaining punch, then dabbed her sleeve with a napkin she pulled from a pile on the table.

   “If anything, they’ve gotten worse,” said Sadie. “I heard Porter’s dad died a few weeks ago. He was living somewhere in Europe, but I think they were sorta close. It must’ve pushed her over the edge—she seems worse than ever.”

   Vesper felt an unexpected twinge of compassion for Etta because of her dad, and she glanced over at her. She knew now Etta could not have been the author of the letter which was stashed safely in her bag, tucked into the back cover of her grandfather’s book where she found it. She felt guilty that Etta had been first to come to her mind when she suspected someone. For a moment she saw her in a new light; someone in pain, someone full of sadness who lost a parent—someone who missed her dad.

   The moment lasted only briefly, and vanished instantly as Vesper watched Etta and her goons bump into their next victims.

   “There’s got to be five or six adults in here,” said Vesper. “Why do they let her get away with that? Don’t they see it?”

   “Her mom is president of the parent council,” answered Sadie.

   “So what? That doesn’t mean anything.”

   “Yah huh, except when it does. Some people are more equal than others, I guess.”

   “Was the masquerade planned by the parent council?” asked Vesper.

   “Nope, this was the handiwork of Ms Westwood,” said Sadie.

   “The grade seven history teacher?”

   “Yeah, I had her last year. She’s obsessed with the Renaissance, and hence the masquerade. Actually I heard Etta’s mom was trying to get it cancelled. Something about how not everyone will have the same mask, so it’s not equal.”

   “All masks the same? That’s not a thing!” Vesper said. “Well, she obviously didn’t get her way on that one, at least.”

   “Not yet, not this year, anyway,” Sadie said. “Etta, Maxine and Laura all seem to be going along with it.”

   They laughed.

   “Hi, Sadie. Hi, Vesper,” said a familiar voice from behind them. The girls turned to see a tall figure in a wolf mask. It was Robert. “I like your costumes!”

   “You were right about the wolf,” said Vesper, as she lightly elbowed Sadie.

   “Hey, Robert,” said Sadie. “Nice mask. A little scary though—you know this isn’t Hallowe’en, right?”

   Robert smiled behind his mask. “Does this black swan dance ballet, or what?”

   “This black swan dances however she wants to, wolfman. But careful, she has a sharp beak, you know,” Sadie said.

   Robert put out his hand in front of him and Sadie grabbed it. He waved to Vesper and took a step backwards. He began to lead Sadie toward the dance floor. Sadie quickly overtook Robert’s lead and on the way she flashed a smile back at Vesper and waved her on to join them.

   Vesper shook her head, then turned.

   “Lonely, but not alone,” Vesper said to herself with a sigh, looking around at her friends dancing. There were still plenty of grade eights and most of the grade sevens huddled along the walls of the gym. George and his friends were being silly, playing jokes on each other, gawking and pointing at the crowds of masqueraders.

   Vesper finished her punch and walked toward the gym door, threw her cup into the garbage, and continued toward the hall with a sudden urge to be alone.

   With each step her eyes filled with more tears, until they fell down her cheek behind her radiant white unicorn mask. When Vesper reached one of the washroom stalls, she lifted her mask to her forehead so she could blow her runny nose and dry her salty cheeks.

   Vesper decided to sit there for a moment. The stall was clean and smelled like bleach. She liked the smell of bleach, it reminded her of her home with her mom—for some reason her mom loved to clean with bleach. The music was quieter here, but the bass still came through the walls, echoing and bouncing around the hard tiles and mirrors.

   Vesper pulled out her grandfather’s old book from her bag. Suddenly she felt a pang of guilt for taking his book out of the house. If something were to happen to it here at school, Vesper didn’t know how she would be brave enough to admit her guilt. She vowed to herself that the book would get back home, safe and secure in its special lockable shelf. In the meantime, she thought she might as well use this opportunity, and opened The Chronicles and Prophecies of Noominia to the beginning.

   “Where was I?” she breathed. “Ah, yes . . .”

The two great forces clashed,

One of light, and one of darkness.

And soon Dauntless knew his destiny

Was to give himself in sacrifice.

In a great and courageous leap,

His horn pierced the shadow heart.

From the sky they both fell down,

The horn crashed into the ground.

The shadow dragon was no more,

And the light of Dauntless shattered.

Pieces of light went far and close,

Closer than you might imagine.

A masquerade, a book, a dream,

Things which might seem random,

But to her, so real they will be,

And yet more than she can fathom.

   Vesper paused at these words. The line a masquerade, a book, a dream tumbled around inside of her:

   There sat Vesper at a masquerade, reading a special book, a book which might have somehow just referenced itself. Before long, her imagination took over, and for a moment she became convinced that the text in this ancient book of unicorns described what was happening to her as she read, and somehow it was tied to the whispers she’d heard earlier.

   She pulled her mask back onto her face.

   The unicorn mask made Vesper feel better, and also helped her get into the spirit of the story. She was alone in the washroom, in a stall with the door locked, yet the mask helped her to no longer feel lonely. She closed her eyes for a moment to capture the feeling, to bottle it for later. She would use it as an antidote, a remedy, for any sadness or loneliness that might creep up on her later on.

   She opened her eyes to continue reading. Soon Vesper rationalized the magic of the words away, concluding the word dream couldn’t have any connection to her: she hadn’t remembered a single dream since her mother died.

   She continued reading.

From Dauntless a million stars were born,

But gone was the dearest Unicorn.

For he killed them both right

With one strike.

   Before Vesper could dwell on the sad idea of the unicorn dying, and the redeeming idea that he becomes the stars in the sky, the whole washroom shook with a rumble, a deep bass, one much louder than the music, which had stopped in the same instance.

   The lights flickered and went out, and Vesper’s scream echoed off the cold, metallic walls of the stall.

   Had a tree fallen on the school? Had something exploded? Was it an earthquake? Her head was dizzy with questions. She checked her phone, and the battery was dead. In shock, she stuffed the book into her bag and stumbled from the darkness of the washroom into the hallway.

   The hallway was empty and silent. The darkness swallowed everything except the emergency lights and several flameless candles that rolled aimlessly along the corridor. Where were the teachers? The parents? The crowds of students? Her friends? Where was Sadie?

   Vesper headed for the gym and pulled the door open.