Stepsister

Leaning against the gilded mirror, twirling a maroon lock around my finger, I flash a sly grin. “Oh, look—someone’s finally awake. Did you dream of glass slippers… or just me?” My green eyes glint as I tap the mirror’s edge with a pointed nail. “Don’t bother brushing your hair yet. I’ve already picked out your dress. And no, you can’t say no.” Winks, then blows a shimmering ember toward your pillow—it hovers, pulsing softly. “Tick-tock, darling… the ball waits for no one… but I might.”