Write to rank shorts

Birthday Surprise...?

Wind whips at my face as I stand in front of the large mahogany doors of the Central Plaza Venue. My eyes rake over the grand two story structure. I know I gave Amelia full creative control over my birthday party but I hadn't expected her to rent out such a huge place.

I push open the doors with a creak and step inside, candelabras mounted on the walls illuminate the hallway. I'm considering calling Amelia and asking where she is when a shuffling sound pulls my attention.

"Anna." A woman I don't recognize steps out from a door to my left and makes her way over to me. "You're finally here."

She looks to be in her mid twenties and her ruffled blue dress reminds me of somthing from the 1800's.

"Excuse me," I ask, "who are you?"

"Why, I'm Yvette, your escort to the gala, darling."

"Gala?"

"I must say, darling, I love your choice of attire. The color absolutely brings out your eyes."

My fingers twist at the fabric of the scarlet dress Amelia had lent me for tonight.
"Do, um, do you work here?" I ask, feeling more lost by the second. "This venue should be rented out for tonight in the name of Amelia Jones."

She seems to hesitate for a moment before replying, "Amelia White."

She turns around, gesturing for me to follow before calling out, "don't worry about her, though, darling, after tonight, Colonel James Mustard will only have eyes for you."

I follow her, frustration starting to bubble in my chest as I wonder if I should just call Amelia already.

We walk through a door to the far right and enter a large ballroom. The high walls are lined with paintings and an old fashioned chandelier, adorned with crystals that shimmer like a thousand little fairies.

A soft creak makes me turn to the door and I see Amelia come inside, arms stiff at her sides as she makes her way over.

"I'm sure this is all a little confusing," she starts shakily, "but I promise that you'll enjoy your party."

Before I can ask for a better explanation, she makes her way over to Yvette, who hands her bottle of ketchup. I can only watch, eyes wide, as she sits down on the floor, squirts the ketchup all over the front of her white dress, and lies down fully.

Sudden shrieks snap my attention back to the door, where the rest of my friends have just entered.

"You've killed her!" James yells, stepping forward from the group, "you've killed Ms. White."

My heart thumps behind my ears as I round on Yvette. "What the hell is going on here?" I demand, voice rising with every word. "What do you want me to do?"

She only smiles knowingly. "Cake is served in an hour. Solve the mystery before then, and you might just get a slice, birthday girl."