No way.

Nope.

Just.No.

“The bill is for your wishes,” Estelle explained softly, her expression so open and fresh I felt crusty, tired and slightly jaded just sitting across from her.

I could already tell this conversation was going to be exhausting.

I leaned back, arms crossed. “Yeah, no.”

“Yeah, yes,” she insisted brightly.

“I’m going to need to see a detailed invoice.”

“I can do that.” She popped up. “It’s important to do proper audits.”

“Yeah,” I muttered as she hurried out of the room, leaving the door open. I had a feeling that should there ever be a need, she was the type who’d volunteer to be a school hall monitor.

Moments later, the ginger ale-sipping fairylike lady from earlier appeared. “Hi. I’m Trish.” Her handshake was soft, gentle, warm. “How are things going with—” She tipped her head in the direction Estelle had gone, her lips pinched together as though disgusted, “—her.”

I blinked at Trish. I wasn’t sure what I’d witnessed with her and the can of ginger ale, but as someone who’d moved around a lot as a kid and been the easily picked-on outsider, she sent my mean-girl radar buzzing.

“You must have so many questions.” She practically floated into the room, perching on the edge of the table, hands gently clasped on her knee—which was, of course, tastefully covered by the long skirt of her pastel pink and purple floral print dress.

“Estelle’s…answering them.”

“She’s only a trainee, you know.”

“And you are…?”

“Trish.” She stood with a confident laugh that tinkled. “I just wanted to introduce myself so you’ll be comfortable coming to me with any questions when I take over her accounts after she fails her next levels.”

“I’m not going to fail.” Estelle was in the doorway, feet planted, jaw set, eyes practically shooting fire at Trish.

“Why are you meeting her here?” Trish’s question seemed innocent, but her tone was like a war cry.

“I’m introducing myself to my clients.”

“All of them?”

“My VIPs.” When Trish didn’t look convinced, Estelle added primly, “Proper notice must be instituted when clients are moved from one fairy godmother to another.”

“Still having trouble with the dream spell, are you?” Trish muttered with a smirk, then gave me a tiny finger wave. “Lovely to meet you.” As she passed Estelle, she whispered, “Good luck, Training Wheels.”

Estelle firmly shut the door and set a pale pink file folder in front of me.

“She seems…” I paused, trying to think of the right word.

“Evil?”

“I was going to say competitive.” I let out a small snort and Estelle and I shared a kindred spirit flick in the meeting of our gazes.

Opening the folder, I scanned the top sheet. Pink paper with YFGM printed along the header beside a wand shooting sparkles. There were several pages of detailed inventory, listing many granted ‘wishes.’

I skimmed them quickly, trying to gather an accurate impression of what was going on. Some of the charges on the list rang a bit too true, as did their invoice date. But it didn’t make any sense. How could anyone know these things? If I was a diary keeper, I’d think someone had read every page and was now using those private entries against me as a joke.

I shivered, rereading several lines and realizing that someone had taken a very, very deep dive into my life. But if they were investing that kind of time into their next mark, why not choose a better target? Say, one who actuallyhada hundred grand kicking around?