Please pass the grapes,” Cleo de Nile said. She arched an eyebrow and glanced across the enormous marble dinner table at her older sister, Nefera. Cleo cleared her throat to get her sister’s attention. When Nefera didn’t look up from her own meal, Cleo cleared her throat again. “Ahem. The grapes?”

Nefera finally peered out from under her long, dark eyelashes and gave her sister a withering look. “Do you need some water, Cleo?” she asked in a faux-sweet voice. Nothing about Nefera was ever actually sweet. “Your throat sounds parched. Are your wrappings too tight?”

“My throat is fine,” replied Cleo. “And my wrappings are perfect.” Cleo, the daughter of a mummy and heir to a five-thousand-year-old Egyptian dynasty, prided herself on her ability to remain graceful under pressure, but her sister really got under her bandages sometimes. She could be such a pain! Nefera had been home on a school holiday for a few weeks, and Cleo was counting the days until she would leave again. Their home was always so much more peaceful when her sister was gone. It was also strangely quiet and often sort of lonely, but peaceful nonetheless. “But I am still waiting for the grapes.”

Nefera delicately waved her hand in the direction of a bowl of plump green grapes. It was sitting right beside her plate at the table, but rather than passing the bowl herself, she clapped once to summon one of the family’s servants. She ordered, “Seti, would you bring Cleo the grapes?”

The servant hustled forward and whisked the bowl of grapes off the table. He carried it around the enormous stone table and set it down in front of Cleo’s place setting. “Thank you, Seti,” said Cleo, smiling. “That will be all.”

The servant bowed low, then backed away from her chair.

“How was your day, my daughters?” Ramses de Nile asked in a formal voice as he dabbed at the corners of his mouth with a napkin. The moment Cleo’s father placed his napkin on the table, a servant rushed forward and folded it into an elaborate pyramid. Such were the perks of living the life of Egyptian royalty. No need to lift a finger or use a crumpled cloth napkin—there was always someone nearby to make sure the de Nile family led a very luxurious life.

“My day was golden,” Cleo said. “We had a monstrously good fearleading squad practice after school. We’ve been working on this new dance, and most of the other ghouls on the squad seem to be figuring out the routine pretty quickly.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Nefera said, rolling her eyes.

“Excuse me?” Cleo snapped, her blue eyes flashing. She flicked her long, straight black-and-golden hair over her shoulder and glared at her sister.

“Girls,” their father cautioned.

“I said, ‘I seriously doubt that.’” Nefera smiled, ignoring their father’s warning. “The Monster High fearleading squad totally came unwrapped after I left. Your ghoulfriend Frankie Stein is always falling apart under pressure, and Draculaura seems so distracted by Clawd Wolf that she never gets any of her steps right.”

Cleo narrowed her eyes. Nefera had been the captain of the fearleading squad before Cleo took over, and the debate over who made a better team leader was a source of constant competition between the two girls. Nefera believed Cleo could never live up to her legacy. But Cleo knew the squad was better than ever with her as captain—in part because the current squad was made up almost entirely of ghouls who supported one another no matter what. Cleo would fight to the death to defend her ghoulfriends, and she knew the same could be said of the other ghouls on the squad. “How dare you say that about my ghoulfriends?!”

Nefera shrugged. “It’s the truth.”

“Girls—” Ramses de Nile warned. The girls’ father ruled over the household with an iron fist. He ran his life and family much as he had ruled his dynasty—his way or no way at all. And much of the time, it seemed to Cleo, he took Nefera’s side. When they were young girls, Nefera had always been much more like their father, while Cleo had always been closer to their mother. When the girls’ mother disappeared during the de Niles’ escape from Egypt, things shifted a bit to make the family unit work without her. But still, Cleo always felt a little like the odd mummy out.

“What you just said is not the truth,” Cleo said calmly but firmly. She didn’t like to raise her voice to get her point across—a royal should never have to raise her voice to be heard. In a level, don’t-mess-with-me tone, she added, “Frankie and Draculaura are both fangtastic dancers. They work very hard. And Clawd and Draculaura make an adorable couple. You shouldn’t judge people, Nefera. And you definitely shouldn’t say mean things about my friends. I won’t stand for it.”

“That is enough!” The ghouls’ father slammed his fist on the table, making all the gold-encrusted platters and antique bowls rattle. Nefera and Cleo glared at each other across the table. Their argument was finally cut short when the door to the family’s formal dining room flew open and the butler entered the room.

“Pardon the interruption,” their butler said, bowing stiffly.

“What is it?” Ramses de Nile barked. He waved his hand, and a trio of servants rushed forward to clear the family’s dirty dinner plates. As soon as the empty plates were gone, dessert dishes magically appeared before the three de Niles.

“A letter has arrived for you, sir,” explained the butler. He held out a platter, on top of which sat an old-fashioned-looking letter. The paper was yellowed and dirty, and there was a wax stamp holding the parchment closed.

Ramses de Nile took the piece of mail off the plate gingerly. The letter looked fragile, as though it might crumble at the slightest touch.

Cleo took a small bite of her dessert while her father read through the letter. She watched his face go from confusion to concern to shock. “What is it?” she asked, putting down her spoon. A servant rushed forward to clear away the dirty spoon and replace it with a clean one for her next bite.

Her father took a deep breath. He looked up, gazing at each of his daughters with a vacant expression. “Father?” Cleo said quietly. “Are you okay?” Her father, who was usually very composed, looked as if he was coming unwrapped. It was very unlike him to show his emotions in such an obvious way.

Ramses de Nile took another deep breath before speaking. “I have something very important to share with you,” he said finally, his voice cracking.

Cleo and Nefera, who had been bickering only moments before, now shared a concerned look. What’s going on? Nefera mouthed. Cleo shrugged back.

Finally, their father stood up. He crossed his arms and announced, “Girls, this letter is from your mother. She is coming home to us.”