Band of Misfits

The Silver Circle

i.

Neighbours leave each other alone. That was the golden rule. Cinder came to the Silver Circle fully expecting it to be no different from the apartment building where she had lived with Adri, where she exchanged trivial hellos with the people next door and nothing else – where everyone kept to themselves. In fact, she hoped dearly that her strange new neighbourhood would not live up to its strange reputation and allow her to settle in in peace.

She really should have known better.

Cinder had not been in her new home for twenty minutes – the dust of the moving truck hadn't settled – before there was an enthusiastic knock at the door. Feeling apprehensive, she tightened her ponytail, squared her shoulders, and stepped out onto the porch.

Standing there like a one-woman welcoming committee was a black girl about Cinder's age, smiling brightly and bouncing on her toes with excitement, nearly spilling the muffin pile in the basket she carried. Actually, it was more of a muffin pyramid. Cinder blinked.

"Hi!" the girl sang, like she couldn't wait to shower the newcomer with pastries. "Welcome to the Silver Circle!"

"Uh – hi," Cinder said cautiously.

"I'm Winter," said the young lady, holding up the basket as one might a prize-winning cake. "My housewarming gift. Well, the first. There's lots more coming. We haven't had a new neighbour in years. We're all really excited to meet you at the party!"

Cinder gave a nervous laugh. "Er ... what party?"

"The housewarming party, of course."

"Oh! No, no, I'm not having one. Sorry."

Winter winked at her. "We were counting on that, actually. I hope you'll like it."

"Like what?" A headache was coming on. "Who's we?"

"All in good time," Winter said mysteriously, looking like she very much enjoyed her position as the vague messenger. She pressed the muffin basket into Cinder's hands. "Go on. Enjoy. Let me know if there's too much lemon or not enough spice."

Cinder took it numbly. Winter beamed and danced away down the steps – "We'll give you the specifics later!" – before skipping out of sight.

Cinder stared after her.

Then looked down at the muffins.

ii.

It was a beautiful home. Many-roomed, with soaring walls, spacious ... too much for one person. All her mother's furniture had been left exactly as it had been the day she died. That night, Cinder walked about the rooms in her bathrobe, running her fingers over the delicate vases and mahogany tables, the gilt frame of the mirror in the hall, the luxurious curtains around her four-poster bed. Taking her time going down the wide, sweeping staircase.

It was amazing. It was unbelievable. It was impossible that this all belonged to her.

Wrapping the belt more tightly around her waist, Cinder walked into the master bedroom. Right away she paused: none of the lights were on, yet she could see right well in the dark. A glance out the window told her why. The half-moon was clearly visible through the glass balcony doors, and it shone in the dark sky like some great white lantern, spilling a silver glow through the room. Everything was blissfully quiet.