Football Stars Don't Date Cinderella, Part 10

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8, Part 9

Thursday morning

“What are you moping about?”

My head and eyes ached. I wasn’t in the mood to pretend nothing was wrong, and he wouldn’t believe me anyway. “I lost something.”

Craig scoffed around his mouthful of oatmeal. “Lost what exactly?”

“Something that was my mum’s. I can’t find it anywhere.”

He shoved another spoonful into his mouth. “You don’t need to be such a baby about it.”

“You don’t need to be such a beast.”

Silence.

I froze, both hands gripping a plate full of eggs and bacon. Had…had I just said that out loud? I hadn’t meant to do that.

What was going to happen now?

“What did you just…”

Claudia marched into the kitchen. “Morning. Mina, where’s my breakfast?”

I put the plate on the table in front of her. “Here.”

She picked up her knife and fork. “Craig, I hope you’ve been taking notes from the last two hosts. If you’re going to be one of the hosts for next year, you’re going to need to surpass them and whoever hosts tomorrow’s party as well.”

Craig nodded, but I could feel his glare as I slipped out of the room. There would be repercussions for what I’d said.

I went upstairs, trying to ignore the nerves that grew at that thought.

My phone lay on my dresser. I picked it up and saw there was a missed call from Flora. That was weird – she would be doing a shift at the garden centre about now and she never called or texted during those.

Intrigued, I called her back. She answered almost immediately.

“Have you seen the social posts about yesterday?”

“No. Why?”

“You need to see them, right now. I’ll call you later.” She hung up.

I logged into my social accounts and looked up what I hoped was the right hashtag. Immediately the screen was filled with photos of the bonfires, people standing with their backs to the ocean and smiling, and there were at least ten of the chocolate fountains. The one with the most likes and comments was…

My stomach dropped.

It was the photo Brendan had taken of Ethan putting the blanket around my shoulders. His face was clearly defined, but mine was completely blurred and my mum’s necklace was glowing a bright white.

I checked the comments.

why is she wearing an enchanted necklace

Did Mummy and Daddy not let her go, so she had to disguise herself? Pathetic.

Good for her wish I had a spell like that

Then I saw another photo. It was of the necklace, resting on a blue cushion; the only text in the post was a link. Heart in my mouth, I pressed it.

It led to a single page website with the word “Cindy” along the top, and words underneath.

You dropped your necklace when you left Larisa’s party yesterday. If you want it back, I’m hosting the last party on Friday night.

Had anyone else seen this?

What if Craig had seen this?

I suddenly couldn’t breathe. I’d just told him I’d lost my necklace, and that other post revealed “Cindy’s” necklace was enchanted to disguise the wearer. What if he…

He was talking to Claudia right now.

I clicked out of the website and the social pages. Creeping out of my bedroom, I went to the top of the stairs while keeping as quiet as possible.

“…moping around ‘cos she’s lost her mum’s pendant or something.”

“Really?” Claudia said. “I wish I’d known she had it. I could have sold that one first.”

What?

“Thought you said her inheritance was locked up in a box in the bank? Like mine is?” asked Craig.

“It is. Trouble is the locks on the boxes are protected by a safeguarding spell, and they can only be unlocked by you and madam after you turn eighteen. And after Mina’s birthday, we’ll be ready.”

My knees were beginning to shake. I leaned against the wall, breathing rapidly and eyes welling up.

“Have you got hold of that memory spell yet?” I heard Craig ask his mum.

“We don’t need it for another two months, but I’ve already found someone who can make me one. Apparently, we’re not the first in Topaz Coast to make use of this spell. But we need to be careful about this – and keep an eye out for any plans she’s got about university. If she goes away, we’d need to pay someone to be our maid.”

I was going to be sick. I sat down, head between my knees and took deep breaths until the nausea had disappeared.

It wasn’t just that they were planning to steal my inheritance. They were planning on stealing my future. Dad had left Claudia a lot of money and he’d left Craig an inheritance as well, and it still wasn’t enough for them. I knew they didn’t like me, but I’d thought they would be glad to see the back of me.

As far as they were concerned, I wasn’t family. I was just a servant – an unpaid servant.

Enough was enough. I was getting out of here now.

Tucked under my bed was an old holdall, covered in dust. I pulled it out and stuffed some clothes into it, followed by my computer, some toiletries, and some trinkets I couldn’t bear to leave behind.

“Mina!”

I jumped, heart in my throat.

“Mina!”

No. They couldn’t come up here. I went to the top of the stairs and called: “Yes, Claudia?”

“I’m taking Craig to the gym. The garden needs raking; make a start on it after doing the washing-up. And I expect it to be an excellent job. Understand?”

“Yes.”

I rushed to the window and watched as Craig and Claudia got into the car and drove away down the street. The gym wasn’t far from the house; I had fourteen minutes to get as far away from this place as I could.

The sound of the door shutting behind me seemed as loud as a gunshot. I ran down the path and towards the bus stop, praying I was on time to catch one.

According to the timetable, one was due in three minutes.

I stood there waiting, every second passing like an hour, terrified Craig or Claudia had forgotten something and was coming back for it. Autumn leaves drifted down lazily from the trees, leaving a golden carpet on the concrete.

Finally, a bus turned the corner. I waved frantically, and it drew to a halt.

But where was I going?

“Do you go anywhere near the garden centre?” I asked as soon as I was inside.

“We stop right outside.”

I could have sobbed with relief. “How much is a single to there?”

During the bus ride, I kept gazing out of the window, terrified I would miss the stop. The houses, trees and shops passed us by until finally I saw the large white shape of the garden centre. I jammed my thumb onto the red button on the pole in front of me and was out of my seat before the driver had even stopped the bus.

Someone in a green apron was adjusting a sign outside the main entrance.

I ran up to them, clutching my holdall and rucksack. “Excuse me. Is Flora still here? My friend Flora, she volunteers here, is she still…”

“Yes, she’s still here.” The woman frowned at me. “Are you all right?”

“Please. I need to talk to her.”

She nodded. “Follow me.”

We walked through a small maze of tropical plants before coming across Flora. Pale pink magic swirled from her fingers as she gently touched a small rosebush.

“Flora!” the woman called. Flora looked up, and then saw me and my bags.

“Mina? What’s happened? Are you all right?”

I shook my head. “I need to talk to your dad.”