“You really think you can do it? You really think you can make your friend destroy the School Master’s ring?” Peter Pan asked, peering at the two young Evers.

“Why would she give up true love for you?” Pinocchio prodded.

Agatha felt emotion rising into her throat. “I wish there was a way to explain me and Sophie. We’re different—very different—and still the same. Sure, we fought and pushed each other’s buttons and we’re terrible at listening to each other, but we shared the same heart. Saw life through each other’s eyes. I never thought I could live without her.” She paused, tangled in memories. “Somehow things changed. Maybe that’s growing up, I don’t know. Every time we tried to hold on to each other, we hurt each other instead. It was both our faults, but mine most of all. I stopped telling her the truth. I stopped trusting the one person who taught me how to trust in the first place. I thought I’d lost her forever, that it was too late to ever make things the way they were before . . . but deep down I still feel like there’s a way. There has to be a way.” Agatha managed a sad smile. “Because if anyone can make Sophie see what love really is . . . it’s her best friend, isn’t it?”

The League’s old faces melted to childlike stares, as if finally seeing the young girl with hope instead of disdain.

Tedros stepped next his princess, chest proud. “Exactly. Leave Sophie to me.”

Agatha’s smile vanished.

The League looked between them, thoroughly confused who Sophie’s best friend was.

“All that matters now is that we get to Sophie—” Tedros started.

“Right,” Agatha interjected. “And we know she’s somewhere in the School for Good and Evi—”

“Which means getting in and finding her without being caught,” Tedros spoke over her.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Gretel shot back. “School Master is young and strong, School Master has both castles, School Master has army of dead . . . and you think you can get into his school?”

Agatha frowned. “Um, that’s the whole reason we came to you, obviously. Because we need your help breaking into—”

“Help? Your mother’s message said ‘hide you,’” Hansel jeered from his wheelchair. “Does it look like we can help?”

“We can barely can get to the toilet these days, let alone lead a raid on a castle,” cracked Cinderella, expelling a loud fart.

The League members burst into laughter. Even the White Rabbit.

“Some sneak attack! With my joints, they’ll hear us five miles away!” Pinocchio quipped.

“Don’t worry, P! We can beat them with our canes!” said Peter.

“Or my basket of goodies! Hard and crusty by now!” giggled Red Riding Hood.

Gretel shrieked a snort and the others howled so loudly, doubled over with tears, that even Uma jolted awake at the noise.

Agatha glanced at Tedros, who scowled at her venomously for trying to make him believe in these useless old fogies. She swiveled back to the heroes. “But t-t-that’s why we came all this way! That’s why we trusted in you! My mother wrote the League to protect us—my mother told us you’d help—”