Free Banished: Book 1 of The Grimm Laws by Jennifer Youngblood, Sandra Poole Page B

with it.”
    “I see her face! She’s crying.”
    “Why is she crying?”
    She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
    “Why is she crying, Elle?”
    “I don’t know!” Elle’s voice rose. Adele’s questions were becoming a nuisance. She was floating away from her—floating into the picture.
    “Yes, you do, Elle. You know why she’s crying.”
    A forgotten sorrow filled her breast, and suddenly she knew. “She’s crying because …” Her voice broke. “She’s crying because she misses her mother.”
    “What is her name?” The voice was little more than a whisper in her mind. She focused instead on the way the warm breeze lifted the ends of her hair and tickled her nose. “The name. What is her name?” She was walking on the dusty road, the sour scent of apples pungent against the sweet smelling grass.
    “Her name is Cinderella,” she breathed as she lost herself in the picture.

Chapter Five

The Forgotten Girl
    T he apples were starting to get heavy. Needing to rest, Cinderella placed them down in a grassy spot beside of the road and turned her attention to the white daisies that were growing wild in the field. A particular patch of daisies atop a gentle sloping hill caught her attention, and she left the apples and skipped over to them. She plucked a daisy and brought it to her nose. From a distance, looking out over the field, the daisies looked like fancy maidens wearing their finest caps. She rubbed a hand down the rough-spun frock that had faded to a dull brown. For a fleeting moment, she wondered what it would be like to have a soft, beautiful dress like the blue one her stepmother had sewn for Josselyn, but alas, she was but a mere servant, and fine clothes were only for the nobility. Despondency flooded over her until a flock of birds flying overhead caught her attention, and she raised her arms up to them and began twirling in a circle. She began humming a lullaby that her mother used to sing, but the words sank deep into her heart. She was unprepared for the hurt that washed over her. First her mother and then her father. It was nearly too much to bear. She fell to the ground and began weeping in long gulping sighs. No one understood how she felt. She was alone. If only she could make her stepmother love her. What she would give for an accepting smile or kind embrace. A thought came to her mind, causing her to wipe away the tears. Her stepmother had ordered her to go to the market to sell the apples. The last time she went to town, she was only able to sell one bucket. Seraphina had been sorely disappointed. Cinderella shuddered, remembering the way Seraphina’s mouth had turned down into a deep frown. “I’m sorry, Cinderella, but there isn’t enough broth for thee tonight,” she had said. “Unfortunately, when your father died, God rest his soul, he left us heavily in debt. Much like thee, he lacked the intelligence and good sense to make sound business decisions. It’s because of him that we’re nearly destitute, and it’s because of thee that we don’t have enough broth tonight.” Cinderella had gone to bed sick at heart, her stomach churning in hunger. She sat up. Today, she would sell all of the apples, and on this evening she would feast on warm broth and crusty bread. She would show Seraphina that she was worth something! In a small way, she could help make up for the mistakes her father had made.
    She stood, dusted off her clothes, and began walking back to the apples. She heard the laughter before she saw them. She let out a cry of dismay and began running. The boys from the village had dumped out the apples. Two of them were stomping them flat and the other two were pelting them at each other. She ran in the midst of them and began flogging their arms. “Stop!” she shrieked. “Thou art ruining my apples!”
    The largest of the boys pushed her to the ground. “Look at what we have here. The milk maiden is worried about her apples.”
    Cinderella glared up at him. “Ye