When testing day arrived, Grandmomma stood at the front of the room in a long dress and presidential cape. “The time has come,” she said, raising her wand, “to see if you are ready to receive your practice princesses.”

Angelica went first. She touched her hip with the tip of her wand, and then raised her arm high over her head. It was very dramatic. It also made her look even more like a flower than usual.

Grandmomma looked impressed. “Tell me. When is the right time to greet your princess for the first time?”

Isabelle froze. She didn’t remember Grandmomma telling them they had to answer questions on the spot.

Angelica didn’t seem fazed at all. “After they have wished for something that will make them happy.” Then she added, “But it is also prudent not to visit her immediately or too often. In fact, in many cases, it is better to help your princess without being seen or heard. A good fairy godmother knows what to do.” She started to list a few examples, but Grandmomma held up her hand and told her to return to her seat.

It was Fawn’s turn next. “Step forward,” Grandmomma said. Fawn stood up, held out her arms, and appeared to float across the room. In front of Grandmomma, she swirled her wand in the air like she was stirring up a cloud.

Isabelle was totally impressed. Her style was really cool. Better than Angelica’s, even.

Grandmomma appeared to agree. “Are all princesses real princesses?” she asked with a smile.

“They used to be.” Fawn held up a finger and said, “But now there are exceptions. It is possible to draw a girl who wants to become a princess. Or someone with princess-like wishes.”

(Isabelle wasn’t sure what a princess-like wish was. But she couldn’t ask. Not during testing.)

“Are there any other exceptions?” Grandmomma asked.

Fawn did not answer right away. “Technically, it’s possible for fairy godmothers to help regular girls—but I don’t know of any recent examples.”

This answer made Isabelle squirm. Regular did not sound like a good thing to be. Regular sounded bad, like normal in the Fairy Godmother Home for Normal Girls.

As the Worsts took their turns, Isabelle could think about nothing but normal and regular. Regular and normal.

When Grandmomma called her name, she was still worried.

Isabelle walked to the front of the room, held up her wand, and tried to look Grandmomma in the eye. This was not easy. She blinked twice, and then a third and fourth time. But Grandmomma didn’t blink at all. That made Isabelle blink even more.

“Your signature style?” Grandmomma prompted.

Isabelle tried to be brave, but right away, her performance went wrong. First, she forgot to curtsy. Then her half twirl turned into a quarter turn and an almost trip. Third, her swoosh looked more like a swish.

Grandmomma didn’t smile, but she didn’t frown, either. “I have a special question for you. What is the first and most important secret to finding happily ever after?”

That question sounded familiar to Isabelle, like she had seen it somewhere before …

Then she realized it was the question from the rule book—the one whose answer had disappeared when she snuck into Grandmomma’s office.

Isabelle was pretty sure this was not a coincidence.

“There is no secret,” Isabelle said finally. She waited for Grandmomma to tell her to pack her bags and go to a brand-new terrible place called the Home for Incompetent Fairy Godmothers Who Could Never Be Trusted.

Instead, Grandmomma thanked her. She said, “I’ll be back soon.” As she walked out the door, Clotilda walked in. She told the group she was here to keep them busy while Grandmomma discussed them with the three Bests.

For the first time ever, Isabelle didn’t mind waiting.

Minerva didn’t, either. “I told you the whole thing is rigged,” she said. “But maybe for you, that’s not a bad thing.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Isabelle asked.

Minerva looked a little embarrassed. “Well, she is your grandmother.”

When Grandmomma and the Bests came back, Isabelle crossed all her fingers and toes. She wasn’t sure if her performance had been enough to get her assigned a practice princess.

Bright lights suddenly filled the classroom. Confetti fell from the ceiling. (Isabelle was pretty sure this was the work of Kaminari.)

“Congratulations to all of you,” Grandmomma said. “You have all passed.”

“That’s amazing!” Isabelle jumped out of her seat and danced around the room. She tried to hug Angelica, but Angelica did not want to be hugged. Neither did Fawn.

When she tried to hug Minerva, the old godmother accepted a short embrace. “We can celebrate later.” (She looked happy, too.) “Right now we have to pay attention. Your grandmother wants to say something.”

Isabelle sat down and watched Grandmomma uncover a huge bowl filled with sparkles. “I will call you forward, best to worst. You will receive information about your practice princess. Then you will dip your wand in the sparkles. These sparkles will give you just enough magic to help your practice princesses.”

Isabelle almost clapped her hands when Grandmomma pulled out the first envelope.

“Congratulations, Fawn,” Grandmomma said. “You may begin.”

Isabelle could hardly believe it when Fawn dipped her wand into the bowl. She thought she might have heard a sizzling sound. When Fawn removed her wand, the top half had turned white. She looked different, too. A little older. And happier.

When Fawn opened her envelope, she discovered that her practice princess had already made a wish. She wanted to see snow.

Isabelle was not impressed. “Snow? Are you kidding?” That didn’t seem like a hard wish to make come true.

No surprise, Angelica earned the next-highest score. When she dipped her wand into the sparkles, it made a crackling sound. When she opened her envelope, it revealed a beautiful princess who wanted to sail a ship.

That didn’t seem hard to make happen, either, but before Isabelle could say anything, Minerva hit Isabelle in the head with a balled-up piece of paper. When Isabelle looked back, Minerva gave her a look that clearly said “Be quiet.”

Everyone was surprised when Grandmomma called Minerva next. She looked like she was about to cry when she opened her envelope and saw the great-great-great-granddaughter of her first and most beloved princess. (Minerva was really old.)

Next, Grandmomma called the other two Worsts, Irene and MaryEllen. Their styles had been simple. Their assignments didn’t seem hard, either. In fact, everyone’s practice princesses seemed like they were going to be really easy—nothing like the princesses and wishes the Bests had described.

That’s what Isabelle was thinking about when Grandmomma called her to the front of the room.

It took her a second to realize that she was the final fairy godmother trainee to get a princess. The bottom of the barrel. The worst in the room.

Today, she didn’t care. She was going to dip her wand into the sparkles. She was going to get a practice princess. Nothing else mattered.

“Thank you, Grandma,” she said. “I know I can make my first princess happily ever after.”

Grandmomma’s eye twitched. She didn’t like being called Grandma. “As you know,” she told the class, the Bests, and Clotilda, who seemed to be crying, or at least dabbing her eye with her finger, “this is a big day for my family.”

First, she pointed to the bowl. “Go ahead,” she said. “Dip it in. Count to five. Feel the power of the sparkle.”

Right away, Isabelle’s wand began to turn white. Her hand shook. But it felt wonderful at the same time. She counted so slowly that when she got to three, Grandmomma yanked the bowl away. “That’s all you need, Isabelle.” She handed her the envelope. “Go on. Open it.”

The room went silent. Everyone stared at the picture Isabelle held up.

“Sheesh. That’s the worst princess I’ve ever seen,” Minerva blurted out.

“She’s actually not a princess,” Grandmomma said. “Because of Isabelle’s unique abilities, I have given her the first regular girl ever.”

Isabelle shook out the envelope, but the picture was all there was. “Isn’t there supposed to be a wish in here?” she asked Grandmomma.

Grandmomma didn’t answer. Instead, she shooed Isabelle back to her seat. “Remember,” she said to all of them, “you have one season and one season only to make your practice princess happily ever after. In the regular world, that means you’ve got a few weeks. Six weeks, to be exact, so please do not delay!”

As Isabelle walked out the door, Clotilda ran to her side and squeezed her hand in an annoying sisterly way. “Don’t worry! All is not lost! You can watch me work first,” she said. “Whoever this girl is, she can’t be that bad.”

Isabelle didn’t agree. She might as well pack her bags now. It didn’t matter how many sparkles she had hidden away.

Her princess was the girl whose picture she’d seen in the drawer in Grandmomma’s office. She was the girl with the very sad frown and terrible hair and terrible everything.

Her name was Nora Silverstein.