"Cinder, what is the meaning of this?!" Her stepmother's shriek startled Ella awake.

"Wh-what are you talking about?" Ella blinked, her eyes blurred with sleep.

"This!" Celina stomped over to the bed, grabbed Ella by the wrist, and yanked her upward. "This jewelry, which is obviously not yours!" Pulling the tiny silver ring off, she brandished it in the air. "Where did you steal it from, you little thief?!"

"I didn't steal it, it's mine! Give it back!"

"What did you demand of me?" Celina's usually full lips thinned. She shoved Ella back onto the bed. "You have nothing I do not provide, regardless of what 'stipulations' your father's will might state. I might not be able to kill you, but never for a moment believe you cannot be killed."

She can't hurt me, she can't hurt me. It became a mantra as Ella stared up at her stepmother. Papa's letter warned me of this. He told me to be careful. She's just trying to scare me. "The ring is mine," she said again. "It was a gift from my papa. I can't make you do the right thing, I can't make you return it, but it's not yours."

Her stepmother brayed laughter, a harsh sound that reminded Ella more of cackling crows than an actual laugh. "Such brave words for something with such little power."

This argument is pointless. "Was there something you needed, Mama?"

"You were not in attendance last night."

"I–I came to the ball, but didn't stay long." She scrambled for a lie her stepmother would believe. "I didn't want to shame you, so I stayed near the outer edges of the courtyard."

"And what gown did you wear? Come, show it to me."

"An-an old one of my mother's. I found it in the attic," Ella replied. Why does she want to know what I wore?

Celina bore her teeth. "How adept you are at lying."

"Wait-I don't know what you're talking about, Mama. I was there, I wore my mother's gown, but I didn't stay. I promise you, I'm not lying."

Celina bent down, grabbing something from under Ella's bed, and tossing it at her. "Then what is this doing under your bed?" Her voice was flat.

Ella shrank backward, the spider silk gown bunched in her lap. "I can explain..." Can I? What explanation can I give? and, on the heels of that thought, why isn't she killing me?

"Explain? Can you explain how you chose to ruin your sister's evening? How you willfully monopolized the prince's attention with your greediness, and deny Esmae her rightful opportunities with your selfishness?"

"That's not how it happened, Mama." Ella inched away from Celina until her back was against the wrought iron headboard.

Celina reached out with one hand curved into a claw, yanking Ella off the bed. "I am done with you," she growled. "You have disrupted my existence for the very last time."

"Mama, no! Please, you can't kill me!" Ella shrieked. This can't be happening! She'd never risk...

"I am not going to kill you, you little fool," Celina began to drag her across the floor. "I am, however, going to teach you a lesson you will never forget."

"You can't," Ella pleaded. "Please, I haven't done anything..."

"You have done everything." Dropping Ella's wrist briefly, Celina wrapped a fist in her stepdaughter's long, red curls. "No more."

"Mama, what are you doing?!" Evangeline stood in the doorway, still in her nightgown. "Let go of her!"

"You do not get a say in this, Evangeline. Return to your room. At once."

"She's your daughter," Evangeline began, but Celina cut her off with one upraised finger.
"She is no spawn of mine," Celina spat. "Now move, Evangeline, before you join her."

"But..." Evangeline's voice trailed off as her mother took one step forward, a hand raised. "I am sorry, Ella," she gasped before turning and fleeing down the staircase.
Ella could hear her, clattering down in her bare feet, and then the front door opened and slammed shut. I don't blame her, I don't. I'd leave if I could. She winced as her stepmother's grip tightened, then cried out as Celina hauled her across the floor and out into the hall. "Stop it, Mama, stop!" she screamed. Her hands wrapped around Celina's, trying to pry them loose from her hair, and her bare feet slid against the freshly polished flooring as she scrabbled for purchase. Mama,stopitstopitstopit!!! She couldn't stop screaming.

"You have been a thorn in my side since the day I married your father," Celina ground out. "That ends now." She shoved Ella toward the stairs, watching impassively as her stepdaughter tumbled down them to land on the bottom step.

Ella curled into a ball on her right side, panting. Get up. I've got to get up. Her body was refusing to obey her thoughts. Oh god, everything hurts.

"I see you finally got what you deserve."

Ella glanced up. Esmae stood looking down at her, a smirk plastered across her lips.

"H-have you come to finish it?" Ella croaked.

"You are so dramatic," Esmae retorted. "No one is going to kill you."

Ella swallowed, her throat raw from screaming. "I was thrown down the stairs," she whispered.

A smile crept across Esmae's lips. "I watched."

Pushing herself up with her left hand, Ella struggled into a sitting position. Nothing feels broken. She rotated both shoulders, then her right wrist, and her ankles. And cried out halfway through turning her left ankle.

"What's the matter, Cinder? Can't walk?" Esmae taunted. "What a pity."

"Esmae, you will help me provide transportation for your stepsister." Celina joined Esmae at the base of the staircase.

"What? Why?" Esmae glared at her mother.

"Transportation? To where?" Ella rasped, climbing slowly to her feet, and putting as little weight on her left ankle as possible. "What're you going to do to me?"

Her stepmother's blackened lips curved into a cruel smile. "Why, I am going to grant you your greatest desire. I am taking you to see your father."

For one brief shining moment, Ella's heart soared. Papa. Then reality. Papa. But Papa's dead. Unless he isn't. Unless I've been wrong all these years...Stop it, Ella. You're spiraling.

"Look at her," Esmae mocked. "The poor thing looks utterly confused."

Celina reached down and grabbed Ella's arm, yanking her upright. Ella screamed as her shoulder popped out of its socket. "I do not care," Celina retorted, "whether she is confused or not. Her feelings are completely irrelevant to the task at hand."

"Mama, please, I can't walk." Ella sniffed as her eyes welled up. "Wh-where are you taking me?"

"Outside," Celina commanded. "Now. Esmae, take her other arm, and no further complaints about it or you will not get the gift I have for you."

"No," Ella said, "you're not giving it to her."

Celina twisted her arm cruelly. "You have no say whatsoever in what I choose to give my daughter."

"A gift which belongs to her? Something she values?" Esmae smiled again. "Of course I will help you, Mama."

Ella sagged in her stepmother's grasp. I can't fight this. Not now. Not today. She hung her head, allowing Esmae to first grab her other arm, and then march her, limping, out the front door and into the waiting carriage. She slumped onto the seat across from her stepmother and stepsister, closing her eyes. Wherever I wind up can't possibly be worse than this hell.

She was wrong. It was worse. Much, much worse.

***

"You can't mean to leave me tied up down here!" Ella protested, staring up at her stepmother, who stood at the top of the stairs of the cellar. What am I supposed to eat, how am I going to survive?

"I can, and I will." Celina snapped. "Esmae, ensure the knots I tied are pulled tight. We do not want to concern ourselves with the possibility of her escape."

"Yes, Mama," Esmae replied obediently. Bending down, she yanked awkwardly at the already tight rope holding Ella's arms behind her back, then at the ropes binding her legs to the legs of the tall backed chair. Ella cried out, and the other girl smiled. "She will not get loose," Esmae promised.

I can. I will. "I don't understand, you don't have to do this," Ella sobbed. "I'll die, you know I'll die."

"Of course you will," Esmae replied. "Down here, with your precious 'Papa'." Her eyes shone bright with ill-concealed malice.

"Let her wallow in her own misery," Celina commanded. "We have much to accomplish, now that we have removed this noxious troll from the prince's eyesight. He will reward you for it when he chooses you to be his bride."

"N-no," No. I will not allow Esmae to disrupt Grey's life. Ella struggled against the ropes. Why are they doing this to me? "Why do you hate me so much?" she whispered. But she already knew the answer. They hate me because of who they are. They're just terrible people. None of this is my fault. She sniffed back tears as she watched her stepsister climb the stairs, and leave with her stepmother, closing the door behind them. This can't be the end. I won't let it. Gritting her teeth against the pain, Ella twisted her wrists. The rope gave slightly. Maybe if I lean forward... Putting thought into practice, she rocked forward, then backward, over and over again. The ancient wooden chair creaked and groaned with each movement until it collapsed under the weight of its own age.

What now? Ella lay on her back, hands and feet still tied to the barely-there remnants of the chair. Think, Ella, think. You've got to think even though everything hurts. It's the only way you're going to survive this. Sitting up, she relaxed her shoulders. With that single motion, the rope holding her wrists tight relaxed. Perfect. With a bit more wiggling, the knots sagged, and her hands were free. Pulling them loose, she massaged her wrists for a few moments before untying her legs. How on earth am I going to get out of here? I didn't even know this cellar existed! Then again, this whole house has always been...odd. Bracing herself against the smooth stone wall with one hand, she pulled herself to her feet, wincing when her left ankle took on too much weight. She looked around the room. Large wooden barrels banded in metal sat two feet apart on massive wooden logs, stretching as far back into the room as Ella could see. I hope there's another way out. She glanced at the staircase leading to the door. I won't be able to get up those stairs with my ankle in its current condition. Sinking back down to the ground, Ella pulled and tugged at the hem of her linen nightgown until it began to come loose, then ripped it across until she had one long strip. Tying it snugly around her bad ankle, she rose and took a few tentative steps. Better. Now let's see what this room holds other than those barrels. After all, Papa built it for a reason. She sighed deeply, and the faint aroma of jasmine tickled at the back of her nose. Ella frowned. Jasmine doesn't bloom without a vine to grow on. What's happening? Staying close to the wall, she limped toward the back of the cellar. The scent grew stronger. She continued deeper and deeper. It was only when something crunched underfoot that she looked down, and screamed.

"Oh my God, what's that?" Ella gasped, the jasmine now thick enough to make her gag.

But she already knew. Papa. What else could it be? The skeleton was covered in tiny pink flowers, the vines acting as a coffin for the remains. She dropped to her knees, retching. He's gone. They killed him. And they were going to do the same thing to me, only slower. Oh my God, what am I going to do? Slowly, her stomach settled and the answer came. Grey. He can stop them, make sure justice...her thoughts trailed off. He can't help me. He doesn't even know where I am. But he could find me. He knows my family name. He could come. After the ball. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she hung her head, closing her eyes in a semblance of prayer she had never before said. Papa, I miss you so much. If you're here, if the spirit remains after the body is gone, please help me.

'Ella Rose, my darling girl.'

"Hello, is someone here?" Ella opened her eyes, glancing around her.

'I'm here, Ella. Over by the barrels. Look. You don't have to get up.'

A small column of white hung between two of the metal-banded wooden barrels.

"What are you? Are you part of this house?"

'In a way,' the spirit replied, 'I've been here since my passing.'

"You died here?" Ella's eyes widened. "I know who you are! You're my mother."

'Yes, Ella. I am.'

"Have you always been here?"

'I've had reasons for staying. Now those reasons are coming to an end.'

Ella struggled to her feet. "But I need you. Now more than ever. Celina and Esmae..." she trailed off.

'I know what Celina and Esmae are, and what they have done. Right now, this instant, I need you to say your goodbyes. To me and to Phillip.'

Shaking her head, Ella protested. "I can't. Not now that I know you exist, you're here."

'I'll always be here, Ella. But it's time to live your life. I love you. Now get up and start living.'

Glancing back down at the flower-strewn body, Ella spoke. "Thank you, Mama. And I love you, Papa. Always." It's time to take my life back. Moving slowly, she limped away from her father's remains.

The rest of the cellar, much to Ella's dismay, was nothing more than the same wooden barrels she had seen before, lined up to create a narrow passageway that led to a blank wall. No door. Her heart sank. I don't know if I have the strength to walk all the way back. The hallway seemed to stretch on forever. Taking a deep breath in, she released it slowly. But what choice do I have? Straightening her shoulders, Ella began to hobble back the way she had come, leaning against the wall every few steps in order to rest her ankle. It took forever.

The sudden thud of boots against the stone floor above her head stopped her in her tracks. She froze. Who's up there? Doors slammed open, then shut again, over and over. What's going on? It didn't take long before she heard the cellar door crash against the wall.
"Ella, Ella?"
Eva. Thank God. "Eva, I'm down here, towards the back! My ankle's hurt, I'm not sure I can walk any further without injuring myself."

"I will come to you in a moment. Stay there."

Ella heard a flurry of whispers, then the one voice she never expected.
"Ella, may I come down?" He sounded like he had when she first met him. Not a prince, but a young man. A young man was interested in her. Her heart fluttered.

"I'd greatly appreciate it," she sank down. "I'm somewhat worse for wear, unfortunately."

"Your step-sister told me that your stepmother and stepsister mishandled you," Grey replied, coming into view. Human. He's more handsome than I expected. "Do not worry, Ella. They will get their just rewards. As soon as we return to the castle, I will send footmen to collect your belongings."

I'm going to the castle. How is this possible? "The only things I care about are up in the attic. And there's a quilt on my bed. But there are some things here I need to collect, as well." She paused. "Can I do that?"

"Of course you can." Grey reached down, helping her up. "But not today. I will ensure the contents of this house are brought to the castle, where you can go through them at your leisure. After you have been looked at by our physician. Now put your arm around my shoulders, yes, like that." He wrapped his right arm around her waist in an entirely too familiar gesture. "You look..."

Ugly. Bruised.

"Human," he said. "It is not something I am used to."

"Neither am I," she admitted. "You're the first human I've seen, too. Other than my Papa, of course."
"What did they do to you?" Grey held her steady as they made their way toward the staircase. "Lady Evangeline did not specify when she found me. She loves you very much, you know."

"She's been my light in a very dark house. I wouldn't have survived my childhood without her." She sighed. "And I definitely wouldn't have survived this morning if she hadn't found you."

"Then I am doubly grateful to her, but you have not answered my question."

Ella blushed. Maybe this is a fairytale. After all, I'm going to the castle. And my prince is taking me. How is this now my life? But the question he asked still needed answering. "I was shoved down the stairs," she mumbled.

He stopped at the base of the cellar staircase. "Excuse me? You were what?"

"Mama shoved me down the staircase in our house," she elaborated. "But that was only after I talked back to her."

"Ella," he turned her gently to face him. "There is no justification for what she did to you. You did nothing wrong. Her actions were not your responsibility, nor your fault."

Ella's eyes welled with tears. I didn't do anything wrong. It's not my fault. Hearing someone else say it was a balm to her battered soul. "Thank you," she whispered.

"I am sorry I did not tell you the truth about me," Grey said. "But, as I tried explaining at the ball, it had nothing to do with you, and everything to do with my life, and who I am perceived to be." He lowered his voice. "But this, this me you see before you right now, this minute, is who I am."

She nodded, wiping her tears away. "I've lived my whole life pretending to be someone I'm not. At-at the ball, I was angry and refused to listen to your explanations. But I understand. And I do believe you."

"Good." He paused for a moment, then continued. "I had every intention of searching for you, you know. I planned on matching the glass slipper you left behind to every girl in the kingdom, if necessary."

Ella laughed weakly. "You planned on asking every girl in the kingdom to try on a single slipper, in the hopes it might fit? You do know some of us have the same-sized feet, don't you?"

"How else was I supposed to find you, Ella? If Evangeline had not come and found me, that would have been my only option. I was not going to lose you."

She sniffed back more tears. "You–you weren't?"

He touched her bruised cheek, bare of her usual make-up. "Never. Now, are you ready to start your new life?"

She bit her lip. "What about my stepmother? She is determined you marry Esmae. What if she convinces your parents?"

"Ella, my parents have always allowed me to make my own choices, and choosing a bride is no exception. I will not be marrying your stepsister, regardless of what your stepmother has planned. You have to trust me."

Ella looked up the stairs. "I do." With Grey's assistance, she began walking up toward the now-open door. "How many people did you bring with you? I heard boots."

"My personal guard," Grey replied, smiling. "Your stepsister was not sure where your stepmother had taken you, so we had to search her home first."

"You did all that...for me?" She paused.

"Of course I did," he replied softly. "I told you I was unwilling to let you go. I meant it." He tugged on her hand. "Are you ready to go home?"

Home. To the castle. Can this be real? "Yes," Ella said, nodding, "I'm ready." Leaning against him, she