No one knew quite what to expect from Delilah Ray.

She’d disappeared two years ago — left behind a bustling career as a New York event designer and dropped off the map after a scandal involving a high-profile client and a six-figure wedding that never happened.

But now, here she was. Back. Sort of.

The invitation was cryptic. A wax-sealed envelope, hand-delivered:

_“You are invited to an unforgettable night under a billion stars. Coordinates enclosed. Bring nothing but your best self. — D”_

Some thought it was a stunt. Others, a cult. But curiosity was powerful — and Delilah knew how to leverage that better than anyone.

When they arrived, they found the Mojave desert transformed: a glowing oasis of string lights, Persian rugs laid across the sand, a bar carved from driftwood, music thumping from solar-powered speakers, and fire pits crackling under the endless sky.

Delilah stood in the center like a sun around which everyone orbited — wearing a wide-brimmed hat and a smile that said, _“I know something you don’t.”_

“I wanted to remind people that wonder still exists,” she said, raising her glass. “Especially in places we’ve forgotten how to look.”

But it wasn’t just a party.

Delilah had a plan.

And before sunrise, everyone would be part of it.