Secrets of the Sisterhood (The Cinderella Society, Episode 1) by Kay Cassidy

to quiet the fears. I focused on the still, small voice inside me and lowered my trembling candle to the wick, my voice barely a whisper. “I accept the call.”
    Paige offered me a gentle smile, then gestured toward the candle again. The cluster of wicks glowed so bright it sent fingers of light waving across the backdrop behind her.
    “One last thing remains. The candle that burns bright on our table represents each of you as cherished Sisters of the Society. Where one journey begins, another must end. When you are ready to embrace your future in the Sisterhood, extinguish your candle’s flame and release the fears that bind you to your past.”
    One by one, the girls blew out their lavender candles. I looked back at Sarah Jane, who was silently encouraging me as she clutched Gwen’s hand atop my chair. Years of being alone flooded my memory, dragging me back toward the safety of my bubble. Palms sweating, I resisted the temptation to cower from the unknown and did the thing that scared me most. I took a leap of faith.  
    Wisps of smoke curled from my darkened candle as I gazed up at Paige.
    “Well done, Sisters,” she said. “Welcome to The Cinderella Society.”

Chapter Eight

    Nine hours later, I was back at the Grind for lunch. Jittery from excitement and lack of sleep and achy from two hours of mural painting with Mom, I trailed Sarah Jane up the same front walk I’d traveled the night before. Same stone pathway, same etched-glass doors with their stylized coffee cups. Everything was the same . . . and everything was different.
    Last night, I’d stood outside those double doors, pondering my fate as a perpetual outcast. In a matter of hours, I’d crossed that elusive threshold of acceptance. Back at the scene of the crime, I was facing the door to my future. I was no longer Jess Parker, persona non grata. I was Jess Parker, newly initiated Sister of the Society. The world was my oyster.
    I slowed, feeling the tiniest bit overwhelmed and uncertain. And yes, a little melodramatic.  
    Sarah Jane glanced over at me. “Are you ready for this?”
    “Only one way to find out.” I took a deep breath, pushed through the doors, and boldly stepped into my fabulous new life.
    As rites of passage go, it was pretty anticlimactic. No one showered me with confetti or asked for my autograph. No one knew there was anything different about me at all, save the fact that I’d shown up with Sarah Jane Peterson, resident It girl. The rest was status quo.
    Which, if I’m being honest, was kind of a letdown. Would a little celebration have killed anyone?
    “When do we get started?” I asked Sarah Jane as we waited in line. The nerves and anticipation combined to make me sound more like a six-year-old at Christmas than a sixteen-year-old Cinderella, but I couldn’t help it. Ever since Sarah Jane had given me the scoop on our secret society and its ultimate life makeovers, visions of fairy godmothers had filled my head.
    As far as I was concerned, we could skip lunch and hit the mall on empty stomachs. A new wardrobe was first on my makeover agenda, with shimmery amber highlights a close second.
    “Let’s get our drinks first,” Sarah Jane murmured, turning toward the counter. “Hi, Audrey. I’ll have a tall mocha latte.”
    “Hey, SJ. Coming right up.”  
    Audrey London moved with the kind of grace you’d imagine from a top model, though you’d expect to see it on a catwalk instead of behind the counter of an upscale café that was giving Starbucks a run for its money.  
    I started to ask, “Do you guys hang out here a lot?” but closed my mouth. Because, hello? Audrey London had called Sarah Jane by name .  
    I know! A two-time Sports Illustrated cover model who reportedly dated Matthew McConaughey (Sarah Jane says that’s just a rumor) and now owned a chain of super trendy coffee shops chatted with Sarah Jane like they were old friends.
    The Grind in Mt. Sterling was Audrey’s first location and, since