Cynthia stayed the next couple of hours in the garden, wracking her brain, wondering just what was with this Lady Tremaine character. Anything was better than going back inside and facing her family after her explosion of envy.
But eventually, dinner time arrived, and Cynthia had no choice but to go back inside and eat supper with them. She dragged her feet back into the house and towards the dining room, her stomach aching from both hunger pangs and the dread of facing Stacie after lashing out at her before.
Sure enough, Stacie was already sitting at the dinner table, waiting for both the food to be served and her stepsister to return for the meal. Cynthia's dad was there, too, drumming his fingers on the surface of the table and looking around, clearly anticipating his daughter's arrival.
When Cynthia stepped into the dining room, head bowed and shoulders hunched in shame, both her dad and stepsister looked her way with blank expressions that she could not read. Yet, it felt like they were judging her, shaming her further and increasing her guilt for what happened earlier by tenfold. Hardly able to bear it, Cynthia hurried over and took the chair next to Stacie, not making eye contact with her or Dad.
Moments later, Maria entered the room, carrying a tray with four dishes, piled with piping hot meals that smelled amazing. She saw Cynthia sitting at the table and gave her a warm smile, acting like she hadn't blown up at everyone earlier, which only served to make Cynthia feel even worse than before.
"Cynthia! I'm glad you could join us!", she said as sweetly and kindly as ever.
Dad eyed her sternly, lips pressed together as he leaned over the table. "Now that we're all here...Cynthia, do you have something you'd like to say to Stacie?"
Cynthua glanced over at her stepsister out of the corner of her eye. Stacie was sitting up straight, looking at Cynthia with a neutral expression. Her face showed no expectation of an apology or explanation of her previous behavior, but Cynthia could see the tiniest little glimmer of hope for such a thing in her eyes. Her guilt reached maximum peak.
Sighing, Cynthia lifted her to look at Stacie. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier.", she said sincerely. "I had a really bad day at school, and I took it out on you. It's just that it's hard to see the new girl get everything you want so easily. It's even harder when that girl is your sister."
Stacie shrank into herself. Now she looked like the guilty one. "Gosh, I'm sorry, Cynthia. I didn't mean to steal your thunder. I was just trying to make new friends."
"Just forget it.", Cynthia murmured. "I don't really wanna talk about it. What's for dinner?"
Stacie shared concerned looks with her mom and Cynthia's dad. They didn't like seeing her so upset, she could tell.
"Is there anything we can do to make you feel better, honey?", asked Maria sweetly. "Any way we can help you with your problems?"
"Unless you can wave a magic wand or something, I doubt it.", she scoffed, looking down at the surface of the dinner table. "Look, just drop it. There's nothing you guys can do. I just have to live with it. If you don't mind, I really don't feel like talking about it."
Robert sighed. "Okay. Than let's not talk about it."
Cynthia wondered if she should tell her dad about Lady Tremaine. Than again, he might not believe her if she told him about his disappearing act in the end. He might think she was making it up. Heck, right now, she was wondering if she had made it up, that she had hallucinated, that it had been all in her head.
"So! The Harvest Festival is coming up soon!", Stacie chirped, redirecting the conversation.
"By soon, you mean six months from now?", asked Cynthia.
"That's soon in our town!", said Stacie. "Mom and I can't wait to take you guys there! It's always so much fun! There are carnival rides, and lots of yummy food, and of course, all the contests! There's a dance contest, some eating contests—ooh! And I can't forget the pumpkin contest!"
"Pumpkin contest?", echoed Cynthia.
"Yep! That's where they grow pumpkins, and the judges decide which one is the biggest, the roundest, and the orangest, and name it Best in Show!"
"Like a dog?", Cynthia joked.
Stacie laughed. "Yeah, I guess! Anyway, Mom's pumpkins have won the contest three years running. Which is why it's kinda a bummer that we can't enter this year because we moved. Well, bummer to us. It's great for all the other farmers this year, since they've gotta better shot now!"
"Well, guess the best way to win is to get rid of the competition.", said Cynthia.
If only she could get rid of Stacie.
It was a mean thought, but Cynthia just couldn't help it. Just like with Maria and the pumpkin contest, as long as Stacie was in the picture, Cynthia couldn't win.
———————————
That night after dinner, Cynthia went into the bathroom and started her nightly bedtime ritual—a citrus exploitation wash all over her face, two layers of lip balm on her mouth, a mask of avocado and melon, and a tight bun to keep her hair from tangling in her sleep. She put on her button-up pajama shirt and matching bottoms and placed a towel on her pillow so that it would stay clean if she turned in bed while her mask was still wet.
During this entire routine, her mind kept going back to that eerie encounter in the gardens. All afternoon, she hadn't been able shake the image of Lady Tremaine's eyes. Even now, the memory of those strange eyes haunted her, so cold yet at the same time so enticing, almost commanding anyone who met them to obey her every command. It was almost like she had mystic powers.
But whenever she entertained the possibility, even for a micro-second, Cynthia dismissed it just as quickly. This wasn't a fairytale. This was the real world. There was no such thing as magic, right?
...right?
Cynthia wanted to disbelieve it, but she would think of those hypnotic eyes, and the way Lady Tremaine had simply vanished in a second without a trace of her previous presence, and her lack of understanding of either would give her an uneasy feeling.
Just ass she'd finished setting up her towel on her pillow, Cynthia heard someone knocking on her door from right behind her. She turned around, looking up to see her dad standing there in the doorway of her room, smiling sweetly. "Just came in to say goodnight."
"Night, Dad."
Maria and Stacie appeared in the doorway, too, Maria in a shiny blue nightgown, her hair pinned up into a bun, too, and Stacie in a simple pale pink sleep tank and bottoms.
"Goodnight, Cynthy."
"Night, sis."
"Night, Maria. Night, Stacie."
The three left, and Cynthia closed her door, climbed into bed, and turned off her lamp. But instead of settling in and letting slumber take her, she lay wide awake and waited. She waited for the sound of closing doors and the flicking off of the lights in the rooms of her family. She waited for the sound of her dad's soft yet rumbling snore coming from down the hall. She waited, staring at the digital clock on her nightstand, watching the numbers change ever so slowly. It was the longest three hours of Cynthia's life.
As the minutes ticked by, much too slowly for her preference, her thoughts wandered to Lady Tremaine, thinking over her words. How did that ordinary woman plan to help her become as popular as Stacie? Aside from her eyes and her disappearing act, she didn't seem to have any special powers.
Ever few minutes or so, Cynthia wondered if she should just forget about Lady Tremaine, just let herself fall asleep and let midnight pass in slumber. After all, ruined sleep would make her eyes look puffy.
And Lady Tremaine was a stranger, one who wanted to meet with her in darkest night. For all she knew, she was going to snatch up Ana and carry her away, like all those people on the news and in those public safety videos they made them watch at school.
But then she remembered the day she had had at school, how everyone who had ignored or belittled her for years had been instantly drawn to Stacie, how she got asked out by a boy in less than two hours of attending school, how she got invited into the popular clique at school on her very first day, how Cynthia had spent years dreaming of the day Charlie Prince would notice her, and when he finally did, it was only as the stepsister of the girl he wanted to date.
It was just too much. The heartbreak, the jealousy, the constant feeling of being inferior compared Stacie. The thought of always looking bad next to her, the fear of a lifetime of being outshined by her. The burning, flaming desire to want to be the star for once, to feel beautiful and admired, to be wanted by boys for dates and not just to copy her homework.
All Cynthia wanted was to be in Stacie's shoes, to be the girl everyone loved, to be the beautiful one, to be the princess. Even if it was only for one day.
The nervousness in her stomach grew and grew, starting as a little prick but quickly expanding into a near full-blown stomachache, to the point where she almost felt queasy, but she did not change her mind. Fake or not, she'd never forgive herself if she didn't take this chance, if she didn't at least try. Even if Tremaine was a creep, even kidnapping seemed better to Cynthia than staying in Stacie's shadow.
At long last, the clock read eleven-fifty—ten minutes to midnight.
Now or never, thought Cynthia.
She carefully climbed out of bed, tiptoed to the door, and opened it as slowly as she could to not make it creak. She poked her head of of the doorway, looked both ways, making certain no one was around, and began to creep through the darkened hallways as quietly as possible to avoid being caught.
She came to her dad and Maria's room, and peeked through the slight crack to see both of them fast asleep. She slipped past and came up to Stacie's room, peeking inside to make sure she was sound asleep as well. She was. Good. Hopefully, they would all still be asleep by the time she came back.
Finally, Cynthia made it to the stairs and tiptoed softly down the steps, through the foyer, and towards the backyard. No one seemed to be there yet. She carefully opened the door and leapt quietly into the gardens in the back, coming to sit on the same bench she had been sitting on before.
She pulled her phone out of her shirt pocket, where she had stored it before bedtime, and checked the time. Eleven fifty-five. Five more minutes until midnight. Cynthia rubbed her arms to warm herself in the cool breezes of the spring night while she waited for Lady Tremaine to show up again, all while trying to not be frightened by the thought of all the horrible creatures and bad people that could be lurking in the cold darkness that surrounded her.
Four minutes passed, and nothing happened. Cynthia checked her phone and frowned.
Of course it had been a prank., she thought. How could I have been so dumb? Like some random woman would just show up and solve all my problems. Stuff like that only happens in storybooks.
But just as she was ready to go back inside and try to forget how gullible she had been, she saw the time on her phone change from eleven fifty-nine to twelve o'clock am exactly. No sooner had the numbers changed, Cynthia heard the distant sound of a chiming bell, the heavy kind from clock towers and stuff.
Only...there were no clock towers in this town.
Cynthia's body tensed, and her blood started to go cold. So where was that chiming coming from?
Before she could really ponder this thought, a shadow appeared right next to her like a flash of darkness, tall and looming, and a low, familiar voice came from behind her.
"So...we meet again."