Estella could barely contain herself. Her fingers twitched, eager to pull back the cloth and peek at all the glorious gowns. But she restrained herself until the cart came to a stop.

Closing her eyes, Estella took a deep breath. Then she opened them, pulling back a corner of the cloth. She suppressed a delighted gasp. It was more incredible than she had imagined. The cart had stopped at the end of a long runway placed in the middle of an enormous ballroom. Men and women chatted and laughed. They were all dressed in the style of Marie Antoinette’s court—high waists, low necklines, wide skirts, and breathtaking colors and patterns. Up on the catwalk, models strutted back and forth in more modern fashions. Estella’s heart pounded and her eyes widened with joy. Each model wore something more elaborate and stunning than the last. They were walking pieces of art.

This, thought Estella, nearly crying out with happiness, is where I belong.

Just then another model walked onto the runway. Her long legs took her swiftly down the lane until she stopped, spinning in front of Estella. Close-up, Estella saw that the model’s dress had faux squirrels sewn along the bottom, making a furry hem. As the model moved, the squirrels did, too. At her feet, Estella felt Buddy’s body stiffen.

He had spotted the squirrels, too.

Before she could stop him, the dog barked and jumped out of the cart.

“Buddy!” Estella cried, scrambling from her hiding spot. “Get back here!”

But the little dog only had eyes for the squirrels. Jumping up onto the runway, he chased after the model. Estella chased after Buddy. She ducked and weaved, using the huge hoop skirts as camouflage. “This is not laying low,” Estella said to herself. As if on cue, a huge spotlight turned on and swept over the runway. For a moment, Estella was illuminated. Her eyes widened, and her breath hitched in her throat. If her mom was somewhere out there, she was totally in trouble.

Luckily, the spotlight swung off her as fast as it had turned on her. Craning her head, Estella watched as it swooped out over the room and toward the enormous stairs that dominated the back wall. There, hovering on a swing above the split stairway, was a woman who made every other woman in the room look pale in comparison.

It wasn’t because she was more beautiful—though she was indeed beautiful. It wasn’t because she had more jewels on—though she did. And it wasn’t because she seemed to magically float in front of a thick swath of drapes. No. It was the way she stood, head lifted, shoulders back. Her entire presence was commanding, full of power, almost like she was a military leader preparing for war. The woman clearly demanded attention—everyone looked at her this way all the time, as they looked at her now.

The woman swung down, the room shocked into silence as she landed at the top of the stairs. With her feet firmly back on the ground, the woman stepped out of the swing. Then, with a grand sweep of her arm, she announced, “Let them eat cake.” Behind her, the fabric Estella thought was drapes dropped, revealing itself as an elaborate train that attached to the woman’s dress. As she moved forward, the train dropped further to reveal a huge cake. On top, written in bright neon letters that would have made Marie Antoinette’s eyes pop, were the same words the woman had just spoken: Let them eat cake.

Estella gasped softly. The dress was fashion-forward and absolutely over the top. It was, in a word, brilliant.

As the room erupted in cheers and clapping, Estella’s eyes didn’t leave the woman. With her chin in the air and her hips swaying, the woman made her way down the stairway step by step. By her side was a trio of huge Dalmatians. The black-and-white dogs had sparkling collars but fierce faces. Estella knew without being told that they weren’t the warm and cuddly type. They would protect their owner at any cost.

Finally arriving at the bottom of the stairs, the woman passed the dogs off to a waiting servant and turned to greet her throng of admirers. She held out a hand, turned a cheek, offered thin smiles to the guests. They were like moths to a flame, all drawn to the woman and her unique, commanding light.

The same valet Estella had seen talking to her mother pushed his way through the crowd. Standing on tiptoe, he whispered something into the woman’s ear. Her face seemed to flicker with disbelief. Then her eyes darkened. Turning, she stormed out of her own party, disappearing through a door in the back of the ballroom.

His message delivered, the valet turned to go. But as he did, his gaze landed on Estella. His eyes narrowed. Brow furrowed, he began to walk toward her. “You! Come here!”

Shocked—and still a bit dazed by the show the woman had put on—Estella went to run. But she wasn’t quite quick enough. The valet’s hand closed around her hat, pulling it right off her head. Instantly, her black-and-white hair was on display.

The valet stepped back as if he had been shot. “My god,” he breathed. “Put that hat back on before somebody sees. . . .”

“What are you, the hair police?” Estella said, pressing the hat back on her head. She began to weave her way out of the ballroom. Then she stopped. Why was she running? Because some stodgy old guy in a penguin suit had an issue with her hair? That was a laugh. Turning, she saw the runway and the cake.

She began to walk toward it. Buddy, no longer distracted by fake fur, joined her. As she got closer to the cake, the details became clearer. Like the dress the hostess wore, no expense had been spared for the luxurious dessert. Estella stopped in front of it. “I was hoping for a piece of cake,” she said, a smile tugging on her lips as, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a mixture of fear and anger flash across the valet’s face.

“Don’t you be cheeky with me,” he said, his warning carrying little weight as his expression grew more nervous.

There was no way Estella was getting out of this place through the front door. But maybe . . .

She lifted her hand, then hesitated.

“Don’t you dare,” the valet threatened. Estella’s smile broadened and then, before he could say more, she gave the cake the tiniest of nudges.

That was all it took. Already top-heavy with the ridiculous layers and fondant flowers, the cake immediately began to fall. As guests screamed, Estella ran to the end of the runway and leapt—grabbing hold of the swing the woman had made her entrance on. Below her, the Dalmatians frantically barked, but she stayed safely above them, swinging over them and landing in the middle of a gaggle of guests. Using them as protection, she dashed down a hall. She only hesitated when she heard the clatter of nails on the wood floor. Fearing it was the Dalmatians gaining on her, she sighed in relief when she saw it was only Buddy. She urged him to go faster and continued running. She didn’t stop until she raced through an open door and slammed it behind her and Buddy. Her breath coming in gasps, Estella looked up and saw a huge wall of windows. It looked out onto the lawn and the steep cliffs beyond. Lightning flashed and she heard the dogs bark somewhere back near the party. But she didn’t care.

She had made it. For now.

Estella’s relief did not last long. In the next flash of lightning, she saw two figures standing near the cliff’s edge. Moving closer to the window, Estella pressed her nose to the glass, trying to see. Her eyes widened as she realized who the figures were—her mum and a woman she couldn’t quite make out.

What is Mum doing out there? Estella wondered.

Behind her, Estella heard the dogs’ barking getting louder. At her feet, Buddy whined nervously. She had to get out of there. And while she was at it, she wanted to find out what was going on with her mum. She lifted Buddy into her arms, then pushed open the door and ran out into the dark night.

The wind howled and the sky raged as water lashed at the base of the cliffs below. The Baroness Von Hellman, the evening’s hostess and the number one fashion designer in the world, stood at the edge of the cliff, facing Catherine. The woman’s surprise arrival at her party had definitely put the Baroness in a mood. She didn’t enjoy when her carefully orchestrated plans went awry. And she really despised when those plans were ruined by someone like Catherine. What was the woman even doing here? Their paths had diverged long ago, and the Baroness had made it clear she never wanted to see Catherine again—ever. She had agreed to speak to her only to get her out of the party and away from the other guests. Her reputation could be ruined if the press got wind of mere mortals attending her soirees.

Having led her to the edge of the cliffs, she now waited for the other woman to speak.

“I just need a little help to get us on our feet . . .” Catherine began, tugging nervously at her dress. “My little girl is my life. But I’m afraid that if her spirited streak isn’t channeled . . .” Catherine’s voice trailed off.

The Baroness heard the pain in Catherine’s voice, but her face was a blank mask behind her dramatic makeup. She sighed and looked back at the brightly lit estate as though the entire conversation was nothing more than an inconvenience.

“This is such a dull story.” The Baroness’s words rang out even over the sound of the waves and the whipping wind. “You have the gall to come back here. And wearing that bland off-the-rack monstrosity.”

Catherine once more tugged at her dress, looking back over her shoulder to where the party continued. She seemed to be weighing her next words. “I know things,” she said softly. “And the dress isn’t that bad.”

The Baroness wasn’t sure which offended her more: that Catherine would dare imply she could hurt the Baroness, or that she believed the dress wasn’t that bad. Both were horribly wrong.

“I just need a little help,” Catherine pressed on, unaware of the rage building in the Baroness. “And I’ll keep my mouth shut and never come back here.”

The Baroness had heard enough. Catherine might have once been her favorite maid, but now she was nothing more than a liability. If she were to leave here and continue to spout nonsense about “knowing” things, it could make the Baroness’s life uncomfortable. And the Baroness did not deal with uncomfortable. Staring over at the woman, the Baroness’s thoughts grew dark and stormy like the sky above her.

Catherine wanted a little help? Well, the Baroness had a way of helping them both out. Pulling a whistle from her lips, she blew a silent note into the air.

It was only a matter of moments until this would all be over.

Estella had raced across the lawn and ducked behind a row of perfectly trimmed hedges. Crouching low, she was trying to get a closer look when suddenly she tripped and fell. Gasping, she lifted her head and saw that her mum and the woman had moved even closer to the edge of the cliff.

“Mum!” Estella shouted, no longer caring if she was caught. But her voice was lost amid the roiling sounds of the waves and wind. Estella raced along the hedges. As she got closer, the other woman’s voice finally became crystal clear.

“We’re done here,” she said.

“Mum!” Estella called again from the other side of the hedge. The two women, hearing the noise, turned to look. But Estella was obscured by the tall shrubbery.

Suddenly, a high-pitched ringing sounded in her ears. A moment later she heard the distinct sound of the Dalmatians’ bark. Turning in terror, she saw them racing—right at her!

Ducking down, Estella put her hand on Buddy’s back, seeking the comfort of his coat, and closed her eyes. The barks came closer and closer and closer. But at the last moment, instead of attacking her, the dogs leapt over her and the hedge and raced on.

As Estella watched in horror, the dogs’ long legs carried them over the grass.

And then, with a final chorus of barks, the dogs were upon her mum.

There was a flash of fabric as her mum lost her footing on the cliff’s edge. Her hands flailed in the air. A short scream sounded.

And then there was nothing.

The spot where her mother had just stood was now empty.

Estella couldn’t move. She was frozen, staring at where her mum had just been, trying to process what had happened. The dogs, still barking, circled the ground, sniffing wildly as if they might find a trace of her. But they had done their job. She was no more. Her body lay at the bottom of the cliffs.

And Estella was alone.

Still unable to make herself move, Estella heard voices coming from the direction of the house. She only just had time to duck down before the valet appeared, a police sergeant following close behind. A group of guests hovered further back, whispering to each other and pointing.

Suddenly, a large man pushed his way through the crowd. Unlike the guests, he wasn’t dressed up, but he was in uniform.

“Police Commissioner Weston.” The woman’s voice floated over the crowd. “There’s been a terrible accident. A woman—she was demanding money. Threatening me. I had no idea the dogs were loose. I think they were . . . chasing someone.”

Estella felt a tug on her sweater. But she didn’t move. The woman’s lies about what Estella’s mother had been doing were so clear to her. The tug came again as the commissioner turned to his men and shouted, “Search the grounds!”

The tug came again. More insistent now. Finally, Estella snapped out of her shock. Looking down, she saw that Buddy was whining nervously. She looked up and saw the guards, their flashlights lifted as they began to comb the grounds. The last of her shock faded. Reaching down, she grabbed Buddy and cradled him in her arms.

Then she ran.

Estella didn’t stop, even as the sound of the Dalmatians’ barking grew louder once more. She raced blindly into the dark, away from the cliff’s edge and the horror she had just witnessed. Estella jumped up onto a stone wall as she made her way toward the road. She paused, spotting an open-air truck approaching. She had only a moment to make a decision that would change the course of her life. Stay—and face the woman’s wrath. Or jump—and perhaps find safety.

Estella jumped.

She landed with a thud in the back of the open truck. Estella lay there, shivering, surrounded by broken bits of furniture. As the sounds of barking and shouting faded, Buddy popped his head up from inside her jacket and gave her a lick. The gesture, small as it was, broke Estella. She began to sob as her new reality sank in. She was alone. “She’s gone, Buddy,” she said through her tears. Lifting her hand to her neck, she felt for the necklace her mum had given her.

But like her mum, it was gone, too.

Estella woke with a start several hours later. She stretched her stiff limbs and neck, a headache pounding behind her eyes. She must have fallen asleep to the rhythm of the truck’s bounce and sway. Sitting up, Estella carefully peeked up over the edge of the truck bed. Her eyes widened.

She was no longer in the countryside. Gone were the fences and pastures full of sheep. In their place were huge buildings and dozens of cars parked along narrow streets.

They were in London!

Suddenly, the truck came to a stop as the light in front of it turned red. Estella gasped in recognition. They were right beside Regent’s Park—the place she and her mum had planned to go first once they arrived in the city. A fresh wave of grief washed over her, followed by intense longing. Estella knew what she had to do. Grabbing Buddy, she clambered out the back of the truck. As it rumbled away, never the wiser to its temporary occupants, Estella crossed the street and entered the park.

It was beautiful. The moon bathed everything in a magical white glow. Green grass, clipped perfectly, surrounded the round fountain that was composed of three bowl-shaped levels, each one bigger than the one before, all with water cascading from them. As the moonlight caught the falling droplets, they sparkled like diamonds.

The thought of diamonds made Estella think of the woman, and her stomach clenched. Estella walked to the fountain and sat down on a bench. It was damp from the night’s dew, but she barely noticed.

“It’s all my fault, Buddy,” Estella said softly. The words she had thought but dared not say out loud until now tumbled free. “And now . . . she’s gone.” Exhaustion washed over her. It felt nearly impossible to keep her eyes open. With no strength left to fight, she let them drift closed.

Moments later, Estella was asleep.