Her name was Cinders. Not because her father gave it to her, but because it was all that remained of her life. She lived in the shadows of her stepmother's estate, a hollowed shell of what her home once was. Her father had remarried a woman with two daughters after her mother died. The woman brought promises of warmth but delivered only cruelty. When her father died suddenly—poison, the servants whispered—the stepmother revealed her true nature. Cinders became a servant in her own home. She scrubbed floors until her hands bled, cooked meals she would never taste, and endured the taunts of her stepsisters. Every night, she collapsed on the cold stone floor by the fireplace, surrounded by soot and ash. Her stepmother loved tormenting her. "You belong with the dirt," she sneered. "It suits you."Cinders did not cry anymore. Tears had no power in a world this cold. One day, a royal courier came and brought an invitation for the grand ball. For that prince sought a bride; he commanded all eligible maids to come to it. The house was quite noisy with excitement. The stepsisters shrieked and laughed over which of them would catch the prince's eye. Cinders asked, hesitantly, if she might go. Her stepmother curled her lips into a cruel smile. "You? " she said, laughing. "A filthy wretch like you? " The stepsisters joined in, pointing at her ragged dress and dirt-streaked face."You can go," her stepmother said, feigning kindness, "if you finish all your chores and find something suitable to wear."Cinders worked tirelessly, scrubbing floors, mending linens, and polishing shoes. But as the sun set, her stepmother and stepsisters destroyed her efforts. They scattered ashes across the floors, ripped apart her only decent dress, and left her sobbing in the dark."You'll never leave this house," her stepmother hissed.As she sat among the ruins of her labor, something stirred in the shadows. A figure emerged, tall and skeletal, with hollow eyes that glowed faintly."I've heard your sorrow," it rasped. Its voice was like dry leaves scraping stone. Do you want to get out of this jail? ""Yes," she whispered, clutching her knees. "More than anything."The figure smiled, a cruel twist of its lipless mouth. "Then you will have it. But freedom comes with a price.""What price? " she asked."Everything," it said simply.She nodded without hesitation. She had nothing left to lose.The figure reached out a bony finger and touched her forehead. Pain shot through her body as the rags that covered her transformed into a black, shimmering gown that seemed to drink the light. Her shoes became sharp-edged glass, glinting like knives. The figure handed her a dagger."This is your ticket to the ball," it said. Cinders arrived at the castle, her dark gown trailing like smoke. Heads turned as she entered the ballroom. He was a handsome prince, but there was a predator's gleam in his eye that she recognized the instant he turned to her."Who are you?" he asked, taking her hand."No one," she said.They danced, and the weight of the dagger hid in her gown, reminding her of the skeletal figure's words: Kill him, and your freedom is yours. He spoke of sweet promises, but she saw through him. His smile was too sharp, his gaze too hungry. She realized he was no better than her stepmother, a man who would cage her in a gilded prison. As the clock struck midnight, she fled, leaving behind one of her glass shoes. It shattered on the steps, cutting her feet as she ran. Blood marked her path. The prince searched the kingdom for the mysterious woman, carrying the broken glass shoe. When he came to her stepmother's place, Cinders hid in the shadows and watched. The stepsisters struggled to cram their swollen feet into jagged glass. The prince grew impatient and demanded to see every woman in the house. Cinders stepped forward barefoot, bleeding. The prince knew her. His eyes lit up with greed. "It's you," he said. She nodded, stepping closer. Her stepmother and stepsisters gaped in shock."Marry me," the prince commanded.Cinders smiled faintly and drew the dagger."No," she said.The blade found its mark in his chest. Blood spilled onto the floor as he collapsed, his eyes wide with disbelief.Her stepmother screamed, but Cinders turned on her next.The dagger flashed, silencing years of torment.undefinedThe stepsisters tried to run, but she caught them both. The house was painted red by the time she was done.When the skeletal figure returned, it found Cinders sitting in the ruins of the house, surrounded by the bodies of her tormentors."I see you've made your choice," it said."I have," she replied."You are free now," it said, and for the first time, she smiled.But as she stood, the figure's grin widened. Chains of shadow coiled around her wrists."You belong to me now," it said.Cinders didn't flinch.undefinedShe followed the figure into the darkness without a word.Freedom, after all, was just another kind of cage.