She slipped her arms through the straps and put the gloves on second. She stood in front of her mirror and struck a commanding pose.

Dream or reality, Maria would cherish this sight forever. She looked strong. She looked beautiful. In the darkness, in this dress, she was Maria the Magnificent.

“Maria, wake up. It’s after eight already.”

Maria rubbed her eyes and sat up in bed. She’d been in the middle of the most wonderful dream, but now she couldn’t remember a single detail except the feeling of happiness. She reached for her glasses and felt the surprising weight of the spider ring on her finger. She must have left it on all night.

Not entirely knowing why, Maria shuddered.

She got out of bed, meaning to head straight for the bathroom and the shower. But the black dress on her chair stopped her cold.

The elegant straps, the black, webbed gloves — they were really here. She hadn’t imagined it.

Maria was so caught up in the wonder of the moment, a moment just like her dream, the feeling of pure happiness, that it wasn’t until her mother called, “Maria, are you up?” that she came to her senses and understood what had happened.

She had wished for a dress, and now here it was. And it hadn’t been chipmunks or bluebirds that had made it for her, either. It was spiders. It was like Maria was in some kind of fairy tale, only she wasn’t the princess who fell asleep for centuries to be awoken by a prince. She was the shadow queen.

“Yes, Mom, I’m up,” she said, before her mother could come in and find her like this. What was she supposed to do now? Her own black dress was missing, but she couldn’t very well wear this brand-new gown — a gown that hadn’t been made by humans — and expect her mother not to realize something was going on.

What had Grandma Esme always said when Maria asked her about her clothes? “I got this in Europe.” Either that, or, just like the ring, “It was a gift from a friend.”

The spiders are your friends.

So that was it, then. Grandma Esme’s clothes had been made by spiders.

Maria set the dress and the gloves down and went through the motions of getting ready. Brushing her teeth, combing her hair. She was glad to have something so routine to do after discovering something so utterly strange. It helped her to pretend that this was just another day.

But it wasn’t just another day, not by a long shot.

Grandma Esme was dead, and magic was real.

These were just two facts Maria would have to get used to.

Maria hadn’t been to Grandma Esme’s church in a long, long time. As far as she could tell, there wasn’t any particular reason why Grandma Esme had gone to one church while Maria, Rafi, and Mom had always gone to another. Mom had once explained that the churches were “different denominations,” but when Maria had asked what that meant, exactly, Mom had said, “It means your father was raised one way, and I was raised another.”

Maria had let the subject drop.

Grandma Esme’s church looked a little bit like Maria’s school, with brown brick walls that stretched out instead of up, except for one tall steeple that stretched up quite a ways. The church had a lower level with long tunnels and passages — you could go down in the kitchen and come up behind the sanctuary, and if you weren’t careful, you could hit your head on the loading doors that led into the parking lot. Maria sometimes wondered if the basement was the reason Grandma Esme had picked this church.

“Are we the first ones here?” Rafi said, pressing his nose against the car window as they pulled into the parking lot.

“No, look. I think that’s the preacher’s car.” Mom nodded at a little white sedan parked all the way in the back.

They got out of the car and walked around to the front doors of the church. Maria still felt a bit self-conscious in her beautiful dress. It almost seemed too pretty to wear to a funeral, especially next to her mom’s gray pantsuit and her brother’s wrinkly blazer.

Her mother looked back at her and seemed to agree.

“I can’t believe your grandmother had that sitting in her closet. It’s a perfect fit.”

“I know, right? I think maybe she bought it for my birthday or something,” Maria lied.

“Right. Your birthday,” her mom said skeptically. She tried the doors, and, finding them locked, knocked loudly three times.

After a moment, the doors swung inward, and a short, white-haired man who looked entirely too cheerful stood waiting to greet them.

“Ah, look at you,” he said brightly, clapping his hands together. “Maria, I haven’t seen you since you were this high. And, Rafael, you were just a baby.”

“I go by Rafi now,” Rafi mumbled.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Mom said, sticking out her hand for a handshake.

“You’re right, of course,” the man said, taking Mom’s hand warmly in both of his. “I’m Winston Yarmuth, the pastor here. And you’re Sofia Lopez. I’ve just heard so many wonderful things from Esmerelda, I feel like I already know all of you.”

Mom smiled. “How can we help you set up, Mr. Yarmuth?”

“Help me? Oh, no, Ms. Lopez, everything is finished. Esmerelda had so many friends here. They all stayed late to help set up last night.”

They followed Pastor Yarmuth into the sanctuary and saw immediately what he meant. There were flowers everywhere. On the pews, on the front podium, even in the windows. There had been a brief moment on the drive over when Maria wondered what would happen if no one came to the funeral but Derek’s family and them. Grandma Esme always seemed to live such a solitary existence, and rarely talked to Maria about what she did when Maria wasn’t there, unless it was to tell her stories about the past.

With nothing left to do but wait, Mom, Rafi, and Maria sat in the very front pew. Rafi borrowed Mom’s phone and played a game that involved lining up pieces of fruit on a checkerboard. Maria pulled out a hymnal and turned to the back, where the stories behind many of the songs could be found.

Finally, around nine fifteen, people started to trickle in. Some people came as families, others by themselves, but all of them seemed to know one another. And all of them came first to Pastor Yarmuth, and then, after he pointed them out, to Maria’s family. Mom made Rafi put the phone away and stand up, and the three of them had to give hugs to one person after another, all of whom said they had heard so many wonderful things from Esmerelda.

“Wow. I guess she was pretty popular, huh?” Rafi said, when at last the church looked to be filled to capacity. Maria had to agree.

With five minutes until the service began, Derek’s family came hurrying through the doors. Derek’s dad spotted them right away and headed up to say hello, though there weren’t any more seats left in the front pew.

“Sorry we’re late,” Mr. Overton said. “Derek couldn’t find his tie this morning, and then I took a wrong turn by the bypass.”

Maria caught Derek’s eye and raised her eyebrows. She was eager to tell him what had happened last night with the ring and the dress. But he only offered her a weak smile in return, as if the morning had been even more hectic than his dad was letting on.

Then Maria noticed the woman standing next to Derek. Tall, slender, and stunningly pretty, this had to be his great-aunt Luellen. She wore a black hat with a brim that swept diagonally across her forehead, all but covering the right side of her face. Her posture made her look sharp but casual at the same time, like a cursive S. She looked the way Maria imagined all women in New York did.