Page 44 of If The Shoe Fits

“Go ahead,” I murmur.

She bends down, her hands trembling slightly as she reaches for the slippers. She takes a deep breath, steadies herself, and slides her short, plump foot into the glass.

And they fit.

Thank the Goddess.

The slippers glow faintly, a soft golden hue that seems to radiate warmth, and I see the exact moment Bethany realizes what’s happening. Her eyes widen, her lips part in surprise, and a faint blush spreads across her cheeks.

A ripple of awe moves through the crowd, the earlier tension dissolving into whispers of amazement.

“They fit,” Bethany whispers, more to herself than anyone else, her voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and joy.

“They fit,” I repeat softly, smiling as I kneel beside her. “And do you hear it?”

She nods, her eyes glistening as she listens to whatever message the slippers are whispering to her.

I don’t know what they’re saying, but the way her expression shifts—from nervousness to quiet confidence—makes my heart swell.

When she finally looks up at me, her smile is genuine. “Thank you, Professor Troy.”

“You did it all yourself, Bethany,” I reply, giving her hand one last squeeze before helping her up.

Wulfy steps closer, his warm presence grounding me as he addresses the room.

“Bethany was brave enough to go first,” he says, his voice carrying effortlessly across the ballroom. “Who will be next?”

The crowd shifts, nervous energy still lingering, but now there’s a spark of something else.

Hope.

Bethany steps back, her head held a little higher than before, and as she moves toward the crowd, I catch Wulfy’s eye.

He gives me a small, knowing smile, and for the second time tonight, I feel like maybe this whole thing is going to work out.

Maybe everything will.

chapter seventeen

After a round of cheers goes up around the entire ballroom as Bethany exits the area where the shoes are waiting for the next person to come try them on.

I am so proud of her, I can’t help it when a tear escapes my eye.

Wulfy notices and his tender smile warms my heart as he wipes it away with his thumb and touches the teardrop to his lips.

The ballroom is abuzz as more students line up to take a chance, and I admit I am even more nervous now.

Wulfy remains plastered to my side as one by one they try the slippers.

“They don’t fit anyone else yet. Only Bethany, that sweet girl,” Agatha reports to me, and she is gnawing her lip.

“Well, the likelihood they would fit anyone here was always slim to none. I am just grateful they fit one person,” I reply.

My gaze drifts around the ballroom, taking in the glittering decorations, the soft glow of the twinkle lights, and the buzz of excited conversation.

My eyes land on Bethany, standing in the middle of a small crowd. She’s smiling.

Really smiling.

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