April’s story is “Heart’s Desire.”
So I read alone, while in the distance the castle clock struck seven, then eight. I read one of Mama’s old books, about a girl who ran away to live among the wolves. I could almost smell the forest around her; could almost feel the soft dirt beneath her feet as she ran with the pack. I sighed again, knowing I could never explain to my stepfamily how a story could be worth more than a dance with a prince.