Rita hid her true nature well. Even I hadn't seen through her at first glance.
Seeing the plaque turn black, I realized she had absorbed the energy of at least a hundred men.
She had spent more than a third of her year in bed.
Just then, my agent, who I hadn't heard from in years, called me out of the blue.
"Dianna. When did you start using your brain and riding the wave of popularity? The 'Mystery Hunter' show called me. Do you want to join their ghost-hunting expedition?"
"Pam, you know I prefer to lay low. I don't want to..." I began to refuse instinctively but was cut off.
"Seven million dollars for the script, paid immediately after recording."
My eyes widened, and I swallowed my refusal.
"If the money's there, so am I."
That evening, after the show announced the guest list, fans flooded my Twitter page with mockery.
[Wow, the so-called chief priest of Golden Church. Aren't you afraid of being exposed as a fraud?]
[Hilarious, your certificate must be worth two bucks.]
[Rita is a moon in the sky, and you, a mud puddle. How dare you ride her coattails?]
[Can't wait for the face-off, ha-ha.]
[Agreed!]
We should see about that.