Free Fairest of All (Whatever After #1) by Sarah Mlynowski

chest. “It doesn’t make him nice.”
    I stomp my foot on the ground. I am mad. So mad. Instead of going home to my family, I am sharing a bed with my brother and living in the middle of the forest so I can try to help Snow. And she doesn’t even want to be helped. If she doesn’t care about getting her happy ending, why should I? I shouldn’t. I should just go home. It’s almost morning! And what if time hasn’t slowed down at home? What if my watch is just broken? Broken as in malfunctioning, not as in stopped. What if Mom and Dad have been looking for us for days? What if they’re so worried they get really sick and have to go the hospital? “Forget it,” I say. “We’re not helping you anymore. We give up.”
    Jonah’s mouth drops open. “We can’t give up!”
    “Yes, we can,” I snap. “It’s time to go home.” Sorry, Snow. I tried, I failed, and I’m sorry.
    “You’re right,” Snow says, nodding. “We should be focusing on getting you home. Forget about me. I don’t want to marry some rock-throwing meanie anyway. Even if he is a prince. I’m fine living with the dwarfs. We should go.”
    “Go where?” Jonah asks.
    She takes a deep breath. “To my stepmother’s.”

w e are hiding behind a tree. Waiting.
    “She’s off!” I say, finally, as Evil Evelyn’s carriage rides away. “How long do we have before she comes home?”
    “She’s usually gone for about an hour,” Snow says. “So not long.”
    Evil Evelyn is on her way to see her masseuse. Snow said she goes twice a week to get a back massage. Apparently being evil is stressful.
    We ride Yopopa the horse toward the castle gate. Luckily he’s a giant horse and all three of us fit on his back. I’m at the rear, Jonah is in the middle, and Snow is holding the reins. Jonah begged for front place, but there’s no time for Snow to teach him how to steer and stuff. I want to go home. Now. Enough is enough!
    Except …
    “Maybe we should wait,” I say. “Maybe we should try something else to fix your story.” Enough is enough, but I still feel bad for her. It’s not her fault she’s so shy that she blew her chance to ride off with the prince and live happily ever after.
    And it’s not her fault her story got messed up in the first place.
    “Absolutely not,” she says. “You need to be home with your parents. Besides, how do you know I won’t get my happily-ever-after anyway? I can keep coming up with ideas on my own, you know.”
    “But —” I say.
    “No buts,” she says.
    Wow. Is this really meek little Snow talking? She’s getting tougher!
    “Okay,” I say. But I still feel bad.
    “Okay,” Snow says, and we trot toward the ginormous castle.
    “I can’t believe you grew up here,” I say with a whistle. Or a kind-of whistle. Whistling is hard.
    “What do you mean?” she asks as she steers Yopopa away from a bird.
    “This place is huge!”
    She shrugs. “Well, it is a castle.”
    And it is. A giant, beautiful castle. With guards and a drawbridge and a moat.
    The drawbridge is huge. Like, twenty-five feet across and ten feet wide. And it’s hanging from the castle door with big chains. I wish we had a drawbridge at home. All we have are bushes and an old screen door that creaks. Although it would make having friends over a lot more difficult.
    We are trying to break into a castle. What are the chances this works?
    I was worried it might be too dangerous for Snow to come with us, but she said she wanted to help. Plus, she’s the one who knows her way around the castle. And anyway, the queen’s not even here. As for the rest of the people in the castle, we’re not exactly sure what they think happened to Snow. Do they think she’s dead? Do they think she’s in hiding? Who knows what Evil Evelyn’s told them.
    We decided to disguise Snow just in case. Enid has a pink pointy hat that we used to cover her hair, and I coated Snow’s very red lips with a dusting of flour. Plus, she’s wearing my limegreen