The line for entrance wasn’t long, but when it got to Lilith’s turn, the girl in the window raised a finger and stopped Lilith from talking before she turned to the small window on her right, the one for cars, and her cold face already formed a huge smile by the time she faced the driver:
“Invitation?”
Anyone who intends to drive up must have an invitation.
The driver seemed surprised before a chuckle escaped him. “I guess not,” He puts his car back in reverse, and the car behind him had to scramble backward, its horn blaring in protest.
The reception girl rolls her eyes exaggeratedly, complaining to Lilith: “I swear, these morons. You’d think people would know if they have an invitation, you know? What a waste of time.”
“And a smile, too,” Lilith smiles back at her, taking the recept
