Chapter Text
Prologue
There are days you know that your life is going to change. Then there are also days that take you by surprise and send your life in an entirely different direction. Greta Gill was a woman who always had a plan. She knew what days were life changing for her: the day she received her acceptance letter to NYU, the day she graduated from law school, the day the adoption was finalized and Morgan was officially hers. Today was just supposed to be a regular Tuesday. She looked back at her daughter now, sitting in the backseat of the car, her arms crossed over her white karate uniform and a sulky expression on her face.
“I still don’t understand why you won’t let me sit in the front seat. All of my friends are allowed to.”
“Not until you’re thirteen, sweetie.” Greta told her, a weariness in her voice. It wasn’t the first time that she and Morgan had this conversation.
“My birthday’s only two months away!” Morgan told Greta, her daughter’s stubborn streak now showed up in full force.
“I just want you to…”Greta started to say.
“…to be safe,” Morgan finished the sentence for her.
Greta smiled as she backed the car out of the parking lot. She loved her little girl, sass and all.
“Whatcha reading?” Greta asked, noticing that Morgan had pulled a book out of her backpack and turned her travel book light on.
“Twisted Tales,” Morgan said, already distracted by the story as her eyes darted back and forth across the page.
Her daughter and her love of fairytales. Greta couldn’t help but laugh as she had ended up with a kid who was her polar opposite in so many ways. This kid loved fairytales: knights and princesses and magic and true love.
Greta wasn’t about to dash Morgan’s fantasies about those things. In fact, please let her little girl believe in magic as long as possible. She smiled, at least the Twisted Tales stories had a little more edge. As for herself, she had given up on the idea of finding ‘true love’ a long time ago. In a world of mindless swiping on dating apps, ghosting, and disappointing first dates, Greta was happy with her life just the way it was. She had plenty. She had her job. She had her friends. Most importantly, she had Morgan.
Greta heard a loud clap of thunder and saw the lightning strike not far from the road they were driving on, briefly illuminating the night sky in front of them. A few moments later, the rain started. Greta turned on her car’s headlights and pressed the button to activate the windshield wipers.
“That’s weird,” she muttered. “There wasn’t supposed to be rain in the forecast today.”
As soon as the words escaped Greta’s mouth, a second clap of thunder echoed in the sky, causing both her and Morgan to jump. The rain was picking up now, coming down in sheets.
“Mom…” Morgan said, sounding fearful. “I don’t like this.”
“I know honey,” Greta said, now gripping the steering wheel tightly with both hands, deeply focused on the road. “We’ll be home soon.”
Another bolt of lightning blazed in the sky. Greta snuck a quick glance in her rearview mirror to check on Morgan. She could see Morgan’s eyes starting to get cloudy and her lip trembling, as she struggled not to cry. ‘Well, that’s something we DO have in common,’ Greta thought. ‘A strong hatred of storms.’
Greta focused on the slick road ahead. She was so fixated on getting them home safely that she didn’t really register what Morgan was saying in the backseat. It didn’t help that the pounding of the rain made it difficult to hear anything else. Finally Morgan, unable to get her mom’s attention any other way yelled.
“MOM!”
“I know honey, but we’re not far from home now…”
“NO MOM! THERE’S A PRINCESS UP THERE!”
“Wha- what?” Greta asked, finally paying attention to where Morgan was pointing.
Morgan was gesturing to a large billboard, a 3D image of a sparkling castle advertising the newly opened Royal Casino. Greta remembered seeing the ads for it on tv.
“There’s a princess up there!” Morgan repeated excitedly.
Greta glanced over, not completely losing sight of the road in front of her. Sure enough, Morgan was right. There was a woman up there, dressed in what must have, at one point, been a beautiful ballgown. The woman was soaking wet, the crinoline and taffeta hanging down and clinging to her body. Her hair was clearly once styled in an updo but now looked like a bee’s nest and her eye makeup had started to run, giving her raccoon eyes that were so bad that Greta could see them from her car.
“Do you see her?” Morgan asked.
“I do, sweetie.”
“We have to help her,” Morgan insisted.
Greta’s immediate instinct was to say no. You simply didn’t stop to help random women in ballgowns stuck on a billboard with a child in tow. It would be irresponsible. Still, there was something stopping Greta from speeding up, driving past, and moving on with her night. She took her foot off the gas pedal, slowing the car as she approached, but still didn’t stop or pull over.
“Mom… please?” Morgan asked again.
With a deep sigh, Greta turned on her hazard lights and pulled over. As her car came to a stop on the side of the road, the rain slowed and then stopped completely. Greta looked up at the sky, surprised. That was weird.
“Stay in the car Morgan.” Greta instructed her daughter.
Morgan nodded and Greta pulled on the door handle and pushed open the driver’s side door. Stepping out of the car, she was able to get a closer look at the woman standing on the billboard. Her eyes were wide and Greta could tell that she was afraid. She was also crying. Greta’s heart unexpectedly lurched. She dealt with emotional people all day at work. She was usually able to remove her own feelings from the emotions of others. Greta prided herself on being cool, calm, and rational. She had rules: don’t get too invested, keep a professional distance, and when someone starts to cry… hand them a tissue and leave.
Greta looked back, mostly to make sure that Morgan was still in the car, but also to calm her racing heart. Once she felt more like herself, she turned back to face the woman on the billboard.
“Hey!” Greta called out to her. The woman appeared not to hear her. Greta yelled louder a second time.
“Hey! You up there! Over here!” Greta waved her arms over her head.
Finally, the woman looked up and squinted her eyes in concentration. She still said nothing.
Greta took a deep breath and spoke again.
“My name is Greta Gill. Do you… Can I help you?”
Finally, the woman used her voice. “I think I may need help. I was pushed out of my world into this horrible place.”
“Ooook… I’m not sure what you mean by ‘your world’ but if you give it a chance, New York City isn’t as bad as it seems. What’s your name?”
“Oh! What horrible manners!” The strange woman exclaimed. “My name is Carson.”
“Okay, Carson.” Greta said calmly. ‘Well, how about you climb down that ladder over there and I work on helping you get back to your place.”
“My… place?” Carson asked, confused.
“Yeah… your home.” Greta said, attempting to clarify.
“But that’s what I’m trying to tell you!” Carson was now yelling down to her. “I was forced to leave my home. I fell through a wishing well and landed in the middle of a very loud street. I almost got hit by one of your metal horses. It was all very frightening. I’m starting to think that the queen may have been right all along.”
Greta felt like she had walked into the twilight zone. WHAT was this woman talking about? The queen? She didn’t sound British? Even though Carson was wearing a formal gown, Greta didn’t think she was actual royalty. With no other option available to her, Greta opted to play along.
“What was the queen right about?”
“That this is a place with no happy endings.”
Greta was about to agree with her when a smaller voice piped up.
“But there are happy endings here!”
Greta closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Morgan had clearly gotten out of the car.
“If you come down from there, I can show you.” Morgan said, holding up her book so Carson could see it.
Miraculously, somehow Morgan’s words had done the trick and Carson began to climb down the ladder. What happened next transpired so quickly that Greta would still be thinking about it weeks later. Greta realized that Carson’s high heels were absolutely not appropriate or suitable footwear to be wearing when climbing down a stepladder. Greta quickly hurried over to the base of the ladder, just in case. Sure enough, as the sole of Carson’s shoe made contact on one of the ladder’s final rungs, the still wet metal from the storm caused her foot to slide and Carson lost her balance.
“Oh!” Carson yelled as gravity took over. Carson’s hands released from the bar as she began to fall.
Greta felt like she was moving in slow motion. Acting on pure instinct, she rushed forward and extended her arms. Carson landed softly in them, waterlogged ballgown and all. Greta looked down at the woman in her arms. Carson’s big brown eyes gazed back up at her. Just for a moment, Greta felt a lightness in her chest, like all her problems had melted away. She couldn’t help but notice that Carson was very pretty. How long had it been since Greta held a beautiful woman in her arms?
“Hi.” Carson said.
“Hi,” replied Greta.
“Hi.” Carson repeated.
They couldn’t keep going on like this. Greta broke the awkwardness by gently putting Carson down, feet on the ground. Morgan hurried over to them.
“Are you really a princess?” She asked, her eyes shining and wide.
Carson nodded, finally smiling now. Greta couldn’t quite ignore how when Carson smiled, the most adorable dimple appeared on her cheek.
“Wow,” Morgan gasped. “A real princess.”
“Carson,” Greta said. “This is my daughter, Morgan.”
“Morgan is a beautiful name.”
Morgan shuffled her feet, suddenly looking bashful, but smiling wide. Greta felt a surge of affection for this strange woman. It had been a long time since she had seen Morgan smile like that. Maybe it would be worth it to help Carson get home?
“Okay,” Greta said, clapping her hands together. “So… where’s home? Brooklyn? The Bronx? Please don’t tell me I have to go all the way to Jersey.”
“I don’t know any of those places,” Carson admitted. “Home is a faraway kingdom called Andalasia. I just don’t know how to get back there. The queen pushed me through a wishing well and I got trapped here.”
“Perfect!” Morgan said. “Princess Carson can come home with us!”
“Oh sunshine. I don’t know…” Greta started to say, but stopped when she saw two hopeful faces looking back at her.
“Oh…fine. But just for one night.” Greta finally conceded.