It all started one day at the market. It was the third time I was allowed to go by myself, and as always, with strict instructions of returning before dark and sticking to the shopping list Stepmother had provided me.

This time, I decided to visit the pumpkin stall I had noticed the last two times. There was something about the stall that made me want to go, but pumpkins seem to never be on the list. But there could be no harm in examining them.

"These pumpkins are beautiful," I said, picking one up.

"They're from my mother's garden," the vendor told me proudly.

She looked about my age, but there was something different about her. It was like I could sense some kind of energy flowing out of her.

She was tilting her head to one side and studying me too.

"I'm Miranda," she said, introducing herself. "I haven't seen you here before, have I?"

"I'm Emma," I said shyly. "I'm not usually allowed to come to the market very often," I explained.

"Oh," she said, her eyes growing wide with comprehension. I was pretty certain that she had guessed, but how could she have. Maybe she was like me?

"Are your parents..?" She hesitated with finishing her question.

"They're dead," I explained. "I live with my stepmother."

"And she makes you stay indoors?"

I nodded.

Miranda thought for a minute. "Would she ever let you visit?" she asked me. "I'm sure my mother would love to meet you."

I bit my lip. I really wanted to go. If Miranda was like me, I wanted to find out more. I felt certain I could trust her. Besides, I didn't have any friends and I had really hoped to make some at the market.

"No, she wouldn't," I sighed. "It took me months to convince her to let me come to the market. She wouldn't let me come unsupervised at first, but she's only started to trust me on my own recently."

Miranda nodded. She understood.

"Tell you what," she said. "I'm bored here and I want to close up. I'll help you finish your shopping and then maybe you can drop by on your way home? Your stepmother needn't find out."

I hesitated only a little before agreeing to her proposition. Then, in the blink of an eye, all her pumpkins were loaded onto her cart and she was ready to head out. How did she do that? Maybe she would teach me?

"You're just going to leave them there? What if somebody takes them?" I asked.

"I wouldn't worry about it," she assured me.

Miranda was much more fun to shop with than our cook, Hannah, who was usually the one who accompanied me on my first few trips. She seemed to have a keen sense for what produce was the best, and all the vendors knew her and were eager to give her their best products. She didn't draw too much attention to me, and I was grateful. I already was quite enamored with my new friend.

When we were done, she let me put my basket on the pumpkin cart, and she pushed with no difficulty. Just as she had said, no one had touched the pumpkins. I wondered again what kind of magic she was using. I felt my excitement rise as we chatted about the market on the way to her house.

She took me straight to the garden, where I saw a woman and another girl, a little older than Miranda and I, hard at work. They must be Miranda's mother and sister. I could sense the same energy coming from both of them.

"Miranda, you're back rather early," her mother frowned at her.

"Mamma I brought a new friend," she called excitedly as she ran to her mother.

The woman looked at me in amazement, and then wiping her hands completely clean on her apron, she approached me and took my hands in her.

"Why, child, look at you, you're one of us!" she exclaimed. "I didn't think there were any others left!"

Her excitement made me blush, but I was as delighted as they were to finally have met some people like me.

"I didn't know there was anyone like me here, either," I said.

"Look at your red hair, your gray eyes," she went on scrutinizing me. "You can't be Morgan's daughter, can you?"

"You knew my mother?" I asked, surprised.

"Why of course, we were sisters!"

My jaw dropped.

"Not by blood," she clarified, noting my shock. "Sisters in magic."

She turned to look at her older daughter. "Sandrine, don't be rude," she scolded. "You have not greeted our guest yet!"

"Hello," she muttered, going back to her work.

Miranda rolled her eyes. "She's not very friendly," she explained, giving her sister a glare. Then turning back to me, she asked, "What are your powers like? Do you use them often?"

"No," I said, "I try not to. I sometimes accidentally use them, when I'm not thinking."

"Do you live with your father?" asked her mother.

"No, my father's dead," I told them. "I live with my stepmother. She doesn't let me go out much. She likes to keep me hidden."

Miranda's mother nodded. "Understandable. I doubt you have had much training in how to keep your powers in check."

I shook my head.

"But speaking of Stepmother, she will be angry if I am not back home soon," I said, looking at the sky to see how long before it got dark.

"But oh Mamma, can't we train her?" Miranda asked.

"I should love to show you how to keep them in check," the woman told me. "But can you promise not to tell anyone about us?"

"I promise," I said. "And I will try to find an opportunity to come back here soon!"

I gathered my basket and hurried home. Miranda walked me to the gate, and stood waving till I was out of sight.