When her sparkly visitor first came to dance around the yard, trailing light and madness with each feathery hop, she thought of it as nothing more than entertainment.
Like the one they were probably having at the ball she could not attend.
“I can help you,” the old lady promised, flicking her wand in the air. “I’m your godmother, after all.”
The cinder girl sighed and slit her visitor’s throat.
The same way she did to her entire step-family before this annoying spectacle arrived.
Smiling, she basked in the eerie silence of her home.
And vowed to bury everyone tomorrow.