At dawn, Clover unbarricaded her door. She stumbled outside to find the willow branches hanging so low they scraped the ground. The grass was carpeted in dead leaves. She hurried to put as much distance as she could between herself and Vakur's house.

Clover trudged through the village in a daze, her heart heavy. Villagers approached, then veered away from her evident dismay. Only the most persistent dared ask for a wish. Near midday, she spotted Lily leaving the produce vendor's stall and her dark mood brightened.

"Hey, Lil." Clover's voice wavered, her eyes darting to the bags in Lily's hands. "Do you have time to talk? I really need your advice."

"Sure. Grab a bag." Hefting the other bag, she pointed her feet toward home. "I could use your opinion on my salad making skills."

Twice they were stopped on their short walk as Clover paused to fulfill the wishes of eager villagers. Each time, Lily's smile tightened, shifting from foot to foot as she waited.

When they arrived, Lily set to work making salads for them. "You can't even walk down the street anymore without being stopped." Her voice was laced with concern. The knife increasingly slammed against the cutting board while chopping a cucumber. "That must get so annoying."

Clover washed and separated the lettuce as they talked. Weariness tinged her voice. "Most wishes are for simple things so it's not so bad." She grabbed a dish towel to dry her hands. "It's easier to just grant their wish than to, uh, say anything that might… anger them," she confessed.

"I'm surprised anyone ever gets angry at you," Lily said while setting the table. They sat and ate.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," Clover said, pushing her food around her bowl. "Yesterday I went to the Doyle's like I do every week. Everything was fine. Normal. Until we finished dinner." Her voice trailed off as the memory returned. "I was washing the dishes when he said he wished to be rich. When I said I can't grant wishes like that, he…" She set her fork down and stared into the bowl.

Her heart raced as she re-lived the trauma. "I've never seen him so angry. I was terrified and attempted to grant his wish when I knew it was wrong." A shudder ran through her. "I'm afraid to see him. Scared he will ask again."

Fire burned in Lily's eyes as she shoved her bowl aside, her nostrils flaring as she glared at Clover. "I warned you! You're always so quick to please. And now they expect you to do anything they ask." She huffed and pointed her fork at Clover. "It's your own fault and you have to face the consequences for what you've done."

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Clover looked up at Lily, her eyes questioning. "Consequences for making people happy? I'm confused. Why does it feel like you're angry at me and not him?"

"First off, I am angry at him, but I can't just go beat him up like the boys who bullied you." She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. "Second, I sympathize with him. I can barely find odd jobs because nobody wants to work anymore." Her voice rose and turned derisive. "Why would they when Fairy Godmother Quinn can wave her wand and do it for them?"

Clover pleaded. "I'm only trying to help like everyone expects. I didn't know it was discouraging people from working."

Lily's gaze turned icy, her accusing words precise and measured. "But you did know that two weeks ago, I was in negotiations with Angus MacKay to help build that extra room. Or did you forget in your haste to do their bidding?"

"That's not fair," Clover protested. "They offered me all the eggs I needed for the party. It would be ungrateful to not help them."

Lily folded her arms, glaring down at the table. "The more you help everyone else, the more I'm the one paying for it." She lifted her gaze, eyes flashing hurt and anger. "I wish you never got these powers. I wish things could go back to how they were before you became a fairy godmother."

Time stopped, and so did Clover's heart. Lily's words hurt more than Mr. Doyle's, echoing her secret doubts. "Lily, you can't… don't ever say those words to me." She reached across the table. "Swear to me you'll never make those wishes again."

Lily's face blanched white and tears welled up in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Clover. I didn't mean it that way." She extended her arm, her fingertips barely touching Clover's. "You know that?" The question hung in the air. She withdrew her arm. "It's just, even if I could help…" she trailed off, her gaze sliding away.

Neither girl looked at the other. Dumbstruck and unable to think of a response, Clover's quiet broke the silence. "The salad tasted delicious."

"Thanks," Lily said while cleaning the table. "I've got a lot going on right now." She turned away. "Thanks for helping with dinner." She busied herself at the sink, the clattering of dishes filling the silence between them.

Clover stumbled out of Lily's home, holding back the tears. With nowhere else to go, she returned to her hut on autopilot and crawled into bed, the weight of Lily's words crushing her.

Nothing makes sense anymore. The two people I care most about hate me. Maybe Lily is right and things are worse. Are fairy godmother powers actually a curse?

Her eyes snapped open. No! She sat up, her heart pounding. People said they visit a fairy godmother in Bryn. They wouldn't travel all that way for a curse.

She sat in contemplation and worked through her feelings about the last few days. Memories of the past few days flashed through her mind, each one tinged with a new bitterness. Her stomach churned as every thought, every memory, led to a single, inescapable conclusion.

It's me. I'm the curse. Her throat tightened and new tears came to her eyes. To dad, and to Lilly.

She sobbed until a new thought rose into her consciousness. I didn't have these powers a week ago, so there must be a way to turn them off. Go back to just being a 'fairy girl.'

Emotionally drained, she pulled her blanket over her head and escaped into the mindless void of slumber.