Warning: This is a very sad story. It is the story of a very unhappy princess and her fairy godmother, Isabelle’s mother. No matter how much we want it to end differently, it will always end the same way—unhappily ever after. (If you want to see Clotilda’s version, see The Wish List #1: The Story of the Worst Fairy Godmother, According to Clotilda.)

Once upon a time, a long time ago, before the fairy godmothers wised up and made themselves a rule book and a training program, there was a very simple princess who wanted simple things and a simple life. She had all the qualities that princesses desired: beauty, wisdom, and the admiration of the world. Even better, the sweetest, simplest prince in the world had already fallen in love with her.

Happily ever after seemed like a slam dunk.

That’s why the very powerful and bossy fairy godmother in charge of assignments deployed her daughter, a very new fairy godmother, to help the simple princess. You see, the fairy godmother had ambitions for her daughter. She convinced her friends that her daughter could do the job better than anyone else.

At the time, it didn’t seem like a big deal. All of the best fairy godmothers were overworked. For this princess, they decided the newbie could get it done.

Unfortunately, they were wrong.

Very wrong.

This fairy godmother was a terrible fairy godmother. She didn’t teach her princess to be independent. She didn’t listen to her princess’s wishes. She didn’t heed the warnings that sparkles should be used in moderation. She failed so many times, her princess begged her to leave or to give her a new fairy godmother, but she wouldn’t.

The beautiful princess was so miserable she stopped being a princess. She gave away her crown and everything she loved, and settled into a life of complete and utter despair.

The rest of the story everyone knows.

Because everyone loved the simple princess so much, they stopped believing in magic. They stopped trusting their fairy godmothers. They stopped believing in happily ever after. And there is no ending worse than that.

In Clotilda’s version, Mom had been a selfless fairy godmother. She loved her princess so much she granted every single wish and more! The problem had been the princess. She had wanted too much.

But in this version, Isabelle’s mom sounded careless and self-centered. Grandmomma seemed short-sighted.

Angelica said, “I don’t know why we just can’t say it. Your family is to blame for everything—and don’t think we don’t know it. No offense, but I don’t know why they even let you in this class. Everyone knows you’re just like her. I’m sorry, but someone needs to tell you. No one, not even Minerva, thinks you can do it.”

For a moment, Isabelle stood there. She respected Angelica’s magic. She was a great trainee. Unlike Isabelle, Angelica practiced. She read the books. She didn’t need every sparkle.

Isabelle knew she hadn’t earned Angelica’s respect, but she thought Minerva was her friend.

She was determined not to cry. Or throw up. (Even though she wanted to do both.)

Instead, Isabelle said, “I’m going to do everything possible to prove you wrong.” Then she took off for home and tried not to worry about Mom or Grandmomma or even the upcoming test. But that was hard. Angelica’s version of the story hurt. It made Isabelle question everything.

Isabelle wanted to stand up for Mom. But this was the problem with gossip. Isabelle couldn’t stop wondering which story was true.

Maybe Mom was the problem.

Maybe Isabelle was the problem, too.

For the first time since she started training, Isabelle wondered if maybe it wasn’t the rules that were wrong. Maybe it was her. Maybe Angelica was right. Maybe she should just give up.