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The clock ticks toward the prince’s grand ball, but Chloe remains trapped under her stepmother’s sharp commands—every room must gleam before she’s allowed to leave. Dust swirls in sunlight, floors beg for scrubbing, and not a single cobweb can cling to the corners if she hopes to trade rags for rhinestones. Guide her hands: sweep, polish, scour until the house shines brighter than the palace itself. Then, race to weave through the stepmother’s watchful gaze and transform Chloe’s weary silhouette into a vision of silk and starlight. A single smudge could unravel her chance to slip into the night, where music and moonlight await. Don’t let the clock strike midnight too soon—her dance with destiny hangs by a thread.
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