The Stroke of Twelve

The clock struck twelve, the carriage turned back into a pumpkin, and the horses became mice once again. But in the rush to flee the palace steps, one thing remained real. It sat there, capturing the light, a silent testament to a magical evening that felt like a dream. It wasn't just a shoe; it was a bridge between a life of ashes and a life of royalty. Now, it sits quietly on the shelf, waiting for the only foot in the kingdom that can unlock its story.