After three days of sitting with the girlgoyles, talking to Clotilda, and snacking on everything she could get her hands on, Isabelle no longer believed everything Angelica had told her. But she wasn’t totally confident, either.

It didn’t help that when she arrived at the center (with her book and her pencil), everyone else was already there. Luciana stood at the front of the classroom. Raine, Kaminari, Clotilda, and Zahara were there, too. All of them looked very solemn, as though they had terrible news.

“What’s wrong?” Isabelle asked, taking her seat. “Did something happen to Grandmomma?”

Zahara patted Isabelle on the head.

“Of course not,” she whispered. “They’re just being dramatic. You’ll see.”

Luciana tapped her wand on her desk. “We actually have good news. It has been our honor to prepare you for this next, important step. All of you have worked hard. You have proven that you have fortitude and grit. So after careful deliberation and debate, we have decided not to formally test you. All of you deserve the chance to help a new practice princess.”

When Isabelle heard “no testing,” she forgot everything Angelica had said about her and Mom and how she didn’t belong. Instead, she jumped out of her seat and twirled in the aisle and shared high fives with Minerva, Irene, and MaryEllen. She almost gave Clotilda a hug, but Clotilda told her to settle down and keep calm.

Only Fawn and Angelica looked a little bit unhappy. “You mean we studied for nothing?”

Kaminari gave them each a sour drop and a big yellow chrysanthemum. “I know it’s a disappointment, but trust me, you’ll be better godmothers for it.”

When she was done consoling them, Luciana asked Raine to hand out the sealed envelopes.

“Inside your packet, you will find your Level Two practice princess as well as a small parcel of carefully measured sparkles to load into your wands,” Luciana announced.

Zahara reminded them of other things they knew: that they’d have one season (or six weeks) to make their practice princesses happily ever after. And that they wouldn’t get any more sparkles, even if they needed them, because of the circumstances.

Isabelle couldn’t help but notice that Zahara had not mentioned regular girls. She wondered if this meant she was getting a practice princess. But maybe Zahara had just forgotten that regular girls could now get fairy godmothers.

Angelica and Fawn opened theirs first. They didn’t smile like they had during Level One training (but maybe they were still miffed about the test). Minerva opened hers next, and she seemed downright angry. She stood up, walked down the aisle, and handed the envelope to Zahara. “I’m sorry, but this must be a mistake.”

Zahara handed the envelope back. She told Minerva it was not a mistake. In fact, it was a perfect assignment. She called it an extra special challenge for her fortitude.

Minerva would not back down. “Perhaps you don’t understand what an uncomfortable position you are putting me in.”

But apparently, Zahara did understand. Perfectly.

For a tiny old fairy godmother, Zahara could look pretty scary, especially when she was annoyed. She told Minerva, “You knew you shouldn’t have gotten so attached to your first practice princess. Perhaps you’re not as loyal to the job as you say you are.”

Minerva reminded Zahara that her Level One practice princess had been the great-great-great-granddaughter of her first beloved princess—and that it was way too late to tell her not to get attached. She had cared for the family for years. At the last Extravaganza, she’d requested to make the young princess happily ever after when she graduated from Level Four.

But Zahara didn’t care. “Either make this new practice princess happily ever after or … do I have to remind you of Rule Four B?”

Now Minerva sat down. “No, you don’t have to remind me.”

But Isabelle had no clue what that rule was for. “I thought Three C was the bad one.”

Fawn shook her head. “Isabelle, Rule Four B says that if you don’t do what you’re supposed to do, you’re finished. Back to Level One.”

At the word finished, the Worsts huddled around Minerva.

Luciana tapped her wand until the Worsts sat down and stopped talking. “Trainees, please settle down. We have no intention of returning any of you to Level One. Or making any of your practice princesses unhappy.” When no one would settle down, she tapped her wand on her desk. “But we are serious about these assignments. They will test your loyalty. And your focus.” Now she raised her wand in the air. “So keep calm. Trust the sparkles. Open up your envelopes and check your Wish Lists! I understand that some of your princesses have already made wishes!”

Isabelle opened her envelope. She hoped for a practice princess who had already wished. (That meant not so much waiting!)

The first thing she found was a teeny tiny packet of raw sparkles—it was less than a teaspoon—less than she’d needed to make Nora happily ever after.

But that wasn’t a surprise. Isabelle was getting used to rationing.

So she took a look at the enclosed photo.

She was another regular girl, not a practice princess. She had very long blond hair that she kept up in a high ponytail. Like Nora, she hadn’t wished yet. Unlike Nora, at least she was smiling. Her T-shirt was cute. It said AIM FOR THE STARS.

She looked nice. Isabelle wasn’t sure why Minerva had been so upset.

“Do you recognize her?” Clotilda asked.

The truth was, Isabelle didn’t. So she looked again. She thought back to everything she had done with Nora, and then Isabelle figured it out.

The girl in the photo was one of the girls Isabelle had met with Nora in the park—one of the girls Nora no longer talked to. Isabelle didn’t know more than that because Nora had been too hurt to explain what had gone wrong.

Isabelle remembered how mad and uncomfortable and sad Nora was when Isabelle suggested that the girl might be nice.

Her name was Samantha T. Butterfield.

Isabelle had a feeling the T stood for trouble. Whatever Samantha wanted, Isabelle had a feeling it was going to involve Nora.