It is not fun waiting for certain disaster to occur onstage.

But Isabelle wouldn’t leave. She wanted to be there for Nora and Samantha, too.

The play started with Gregory’s announcement. (It went very well.) Then a couple of kids walked onstage and pretended to be spoiled rotten. They made terrible wishes. And then some other kids made some good wishes. And then they all sang songs and did a couple of dances.

In spite of all that practicing, there were some problems.

One little girl had to hold up her tutu to keep it from falling down. And another said her lines to the back of the stage, instead of turning around to face the audience. But when you’re little, mistakes are funny. The audience laughs. The people take pictures and they think you’re really cute.

That wasn’t true when you were older. When you were older, the audience wanted you to be great.

When it was time for Samantha’s first big number, Isabelle could barely sit still. Samantha looked just like the best good witch ever, in a big white dress with lots of tulle and ribbons (and thank goodness, no wings). When she hit the high note of the line “Good wishes always get granted,” Isabelle clapped her hands with the rest of the audience.

Then it was Nora’s turn. Her hair glowed from the sparkles. Her dress twinkled, too—but not in a sweet way. As she marched around the stage, she explained to the audience that the well used to belong to Samantha, but one day, when there was magic in the air, she stole it. She could do that because so many boys and girls made bad wishes.

Then Mason and Teja wobbled onstage to deliver their favorite line, “We are going to make those kids suffer.” This was the cue for Nora’s big song. Isabelle clutched her wand, even though it was mostly empty.

She wished she could wish. But she couldn’t. So she crossed her fingers the way everyone in the regular world does when they want something good to happen.

Nora began her song. “I am the wicked witch of the wishing well,” she sang. Then she stepped forward to begin her dance.

She took another step and then two shuffles and then she opened her arms—and BAM! She knocked over the top of the well.

Of course, everybody laughed. (They thought they were supposed to.) Isabelle started to close her eyes, but the funny thing was, Nora didn’t look upset. She kept singing. And smiling. And then she tripped on the top of the well—maybe even on purpose—and that was funny, too. The entire audience was roaring when Mason and Teja wobbled around the stage trying to put it back together. The best part was when Teja went left at the same time Mason went right and with Nora stuck in the middle, they all fell down and practically kissed (by accident).

When the song ended with Nora waving a limp wand that looked more like a sock than a stick, Isabelle stood up and cheered with everyone else. This was fortitude. This was bravery.

The audience loved it. For a serious person, Nora was really, really funny!

Intermission was almost over when Janet found Isabelle. “There you are,” she said. “Samantha needs you. In the girls’ room. Now!”

Isabelle ran back to the long row of stalls. Samantha stood there, hands on hips. “This is not what I meant by make her mess up big-time. Do you know that Dee actually told her that she was a genius? That she should ham it up even more in the next act—especially in our big number, which is supposed to feature me?”

Isabelle felt bad for Samantha. “I told you to wish to be the best.”

“Can’t you do something?” Samantha pouted. She paced around the room.

Isabelle felt her wand. She had maybe three or four sparkles left. And maybe Nora’s sparkle/glitter (or whatever that was) would run out of juice. She wasn’t sure if this was what Grandmomma meant by “the importance of independence” or why Zahara thought “delayed gratification” was so great. Or if these were shenanigans meant to hurt the fairy godmother world.

Isabelle had a strange feeling about Auntie Viv. She was too eccentric to be real.

But right now, Isabelle had to help Samantha. She had to make her happily ever after.

“A wise fairy godmother once told me: You get the right princess at the right time,” Isabelle told Samantha. “And now I understand why.” She took a deep breath. What she was about to say was going to be difficult. “So, no. I can’t undo what I did. I can’t make this easier for you. Samantha, you made your official wish, and that means you have to trust the sparkles. You have everything you need to be happily ever after. And the truth is: I know you can do it, even though Nora is going to keep messing up. So go out there and break a leg! But not really! If you want to be happy, you can do it. You know what that means. And you don’t need magic.”

In the second act, nothing went according to plan. But it was perfect. Samantha showed as much bravery and fortitude and good humor as Nora.

When Nora tripped, she helped her up.

When Nora forgot a line, Samantha spun in circles and made up great lines a good witch would definitely say.

She even told one of the kids that she couldn’t grant his bad wish, because he hadn’t yet thought out all the consequences. But in this case, she gave the kid a second chance.

When the play ended, Nora got a standing ovation. Samantha did, too. Together they stood at the center of the stage and bowed.

And then the real magic happened.

They stood together, arms linked. And they both started laughing. When the audience cheered even louder, they gave each other a big hug.

This was the power of sparkles. It was the power of friendship. It was the power of happily ever after.

Isabelle had done it!

When the lights came on, she looked for Auntie Viv. (She really wanted to ask her about those sparkles.) But Isabelle couldn’t find her. Not in the audience. Or backstage. Or in the girls’ bathroom.

But she did find Samantha. “Are you happy now?” Isabelle asked.

Samantha’s stage makeup was smeared and her hair was almost as messy as Nora’s, but it was obvious. She was definitely happy.

“Thanks, Isabelle. I am happily ever after. Nora and I made up. Do you want to go to her house for some post-play cookies?” She told Isabelle she shouldn’t say no. “Nora’s stepmom is one of the best bakers ever. Even without a fairy godmother. Although, who knows? Maybe she does have one.”

This was Isabelle’s chance.

All the way to Nora’s house (in the car), Isabelle thought about the upcoming Extravaganza. And Angelica and Fawn. Even though she knew returning the sparkles meant admitting her guilt, she was ready to start fresh. She wanted more than anything to be a good fairy godmother. But being a fantastic and loyal granddaughter was even more important. She didn’t need a book to teach her that.

It was strange being back at Nora’s house.

It was hard pretending that she had never been there before.

But she did it.

And when everyone started singing the big song from the show, Isabelle grabbed a cookie (she couldn’t resist) and snuck back to Nora’s room.

Isabelle dropped to her knees and wiggled under Nora’s bed. Even though the room was well lit, it was dark under there, and it was hard to see. Nora stored her memory box all the way in the back corner. There was also an old birthday card with a smiling elephant on the front, a picture of Samantha and Nora, and a notebook filled with ideas about how to change the world.

Isabelle pulled out the box and sat in the middle of the floor. She had done it. She had made Samantha happily ever after. Nora had her friend back. Everything was going to be great.

Then she opened the box.

The sparkles were gone.