Heeding Carly’s warning, Marco and Lemon dove beneath the draped flea market table to hide.

  Marbles did not. She stood tall, adjusting her Kitten Brigade hat with theatrical precision.

  In her old lady voice, she said confidently, “Don’t worry about me, dearies. I’ve handled worse than this robot-faced goon squad.”

  “Better put this on,” Carly said, slipping Marbles a shiny, round button that read Spread the Sunshine.

  Then she pinned another one on herself.

  “Who are they?” Marbles asked.

  Carly answered anxiously, “That’s Mrs. Neel, President of Golden Rays. Nobody likes her! She thinks she’s the queen bee.”

  She glanced toward Marco and Lemon, lowering her voice.

  “The others just follow her around and try to be like her. We call them her Wanna-bees. Clever, right? Hehe!”

  “That man in the yellow vest—now, you watch out for him. His name is Nurr, and he’s the head of the Rayzors. The group that enforces the rules around here.” Carly whispered.

  She leaned in closer. “He had cataract surgery a long time ago, but he still wears those ugly black sunglasses. Just to scare people.”

  Moments later, Mrs. Neel appeared at the booth, flanked by Nurr and her troupe of Wanna-bees.

  She marched straight up to Old Lady Marbles.

  “Sun-Shiner! Where is your Sunshine badge?” she demanded.

  Marbles spun around, proudly displaying the big round button Carly had just given her.

  “Oh… well, good,” Mrs. Neel said, momentarily taken off guard.

  Then she snapped, “Don’t take it off again!”

  The Wanna-bees behind Mrs. Neel began scowling at Marbles.

  Some squinting.

  Some sneering.

  One just chewing gum too aggressively.

  Mrs. Neel, clearly irritated by the entire spectacle, turned to the old flea market seller. “And where are her grandchildren?” she snapped.

  Carly didn’t flinch. “Children? I haven’t seen any children.”

  Marco and Lemon held their breath. From their hiding place, every word rang out clear and sharp.

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  “We must find them!” Mrs. Neel snarled at Nurr. “I want them to pay for disobeying me!”

  “Yes! Pay! They must pay!” shrieked the elderly Wanna-bees, their voices rising like a flock of furious birds.

  Mrs. Neel climbed onto the ballroom stage.

  The band was mid-song, the elderly singer wailing into a glitzy gold microphone with a lightning bolt etched down the side.

  Without hesitation, she yanked the mic away and shoved the singer hard.

  Right off the edge of the stage.

  There was a thud and a startled yelp.

  Gasps rippled through the crowd.

  “I need everyone’s attention, please!” she shouted into the microphone, her voice surging through the speakers.

  She turned to the band and barked,

  “Will you please stop playing!”

  “Listen, everyone!” Mrs. Neel yelled into the microphone, her irritating voice slicing through the air.

  Most of the Sun-Shiners barely looked up.

  They continued browsing booths, sipping lemonade, and chatting as if she were part of the background noise.

  Mrs. Neel frowned disapprovingly.

  “Listen, please!” she repeated, louder this time.

  Some of the elderly Sun-Shiners stopped chatting and gave the obnoxious Mrs. Neel a moment to speak.

  Most of the others just kept ignoring her. Marbles watched as one adjusted her hearing aid… down.

  “There are unattended children wandering the clubhouse! We believe they may be the same bad children who’ve been stealing our lawn and garden ornaments! They must be caught and punished!”

  Miffed by the crowd’s indifference, Mrs. Neel leaned into the microphone and added, with forced cheer:

  “While I’m up here… we do need some Sun-Shiners to help in the Garden Club today.”

  A low groan rolled through the flea market like thunder.

  Several vendors began hastily packing up.

  One woman dropped her lemonade and bolted.

  Mrs. Neel smirked imperiously and looked around the room. “I see that got your attention now, didn’t it?”

  “Oh no!” Carly exclaimed.

  Using her wooden walking stick for support, she stood up.

  “Ah! We have some volunteers! That’s the spirit!” Mrs. Neel cheered, her voice syrupy and triumphant.

  Nurr and the Rayzors moved swiftly, intercepting a group of Sun-Shiners trying to slip away.

  With unsettling calm, they herded them into a corner booth like sheep.

  Carly leaned down, her voice barely audible. “Follow me. I know a way out.”

  She casually stepped behind a tall, skinny bookshelf wedged between her booth and her neighbor’s.

  It concealed a narrow, secret pathway—just wide enough to squeeze through—tucked between the booth walls.

  “Coast is clear,” Marbles whispered.

  Marco and Lemon quietly slipped in behind Carly, tiptoeing along the winding secret path.

  Marbles crept in after them. They weaved between crooked pegboard stands, ducked through rickety clothing racks, and brushed behind the dusty cloth drapes that lined the ballroom walls.

  Trailing a steady stream of slow-moving, terrified Sun-Shiners.

  All sneaking out the same way.

  The air smelled of mothballs and grandpa farts.

  Finally, they reached the exit, an unmarked door hidden behind the long golden curtains on the ballroom stage.

  From the other side, Mrs. Neel’s voice rang out, sharp and relentless.

  “We still need more Garden Club volunteers!”

  “Nurr? Where did that woman in the hat go?... Nurr?”

  Trying to get his attention again, she screamed into the microphone at the top of her lungs—

  “Nu…”

  Marco spotted the speaker cables snaking along the floor.

  Without hesitation, he yanked the plugs from the outlet, cutting her off mid-“Nurr.”

  Then he bolted for the exit.