Page 226 of Naughty Nelle

“Hook, you’re okay,” I say with a humble smile.

He shoots a smile back at me. It’s not one of his smarmy smirks. This one’s genuine. Almost sentimental. Yes, we’ve been through a lot. I’ll miss him in some strange way.

I gape at my cake, perched on a chair in the middle of our circle. It’s a towering confection frosted in a bright yellow. For the first time, that color is beautiful to me. A dozen or so flickering candles—all colors of the rainbow—sit on the top layer.

“Dear, blow out your candles and make a wish,” says Flossie.

I behold the cake. No one has ever baked one in my honor. My heart swells with emotion. I want it to last forever. Finally, with one big breath, I extinguish the candles. A head-to-toe tingly sensation spreads through my body. I’ve been reborn.

Grimm slices the cake. “Who would like to share?” Ha! He’s trying to be funny.

For the remainder of the session, we feast on the scrumptious cake. We exchange hugs and “I’ll miss you’s.” How close we’ve all become in such a short time, old inmates and new ones alike. Everyone wishes me good luck, except Sasperilla.

“Can someone please tell me why she’s getting out and I’m not?” she sulks. No one’s listening.

Rump teeters over to me. “I-I made this for you.”

It’s another woven name bracelet. This time it says “JANE.” He carefully puts it on my wrist.

Tears trickle down my face. “It’s beautiful, Rump. I’ll never take it off.” I bend down to hug my little hero. He blushes.

I’m going to miss my Faraway family. I really am. I’ll let you in on a secret. I wished for everyone here to live happily ever after. Except maybe Sasperilla.

When I return to my room in the evening, giddy with happiness, I discover I have a new roommate. She’s lanky like me, with sinewy arms, intense violet eyes, and raven black hair that’s cropped as short as mine. Slumped on the edge of Elz’s bed, she looks glum.

“Hi,” I say cheerfully. I’m not going to let anyone get me down, now that I’m going home. “I’m Jane. Who are you?”

“Gothel.” Her voice is deep and husky, almost like a man’s. She runs a hand through her hair and grimaces.

“Lice?” I ask.

“Hell no,” she snarls. “Two frickin’ fairies butchered my hair like Rapunzel’s. They wanted to give me a dose of my own medicine.”

I’m not up for hearing her life story. “Don’t worry. It’ll grow back.”

She lets out a scathing snort.

“How’s your first day going otherwise?”

“It sucked.”

“Don’t worry. It gets better.” Honestly.

“Dragon dung!”

I wonder if she knows I’m getting out of here tomorrow. I’ll break the news to her in the morning.

“Sweet dreams,” I say, climbing into bed.

“Fuck you.”

Whoof! She’s got a long road to recovery.

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