Charlotte “Charlie” Black sat at the top of the stairs eavesdropping on a conversation happening in the living room. In the months leading up to her parents’ separation, Charlie had learned that the stairwell had superb acoustics. Unbeknownst to her arguing parents, Charlie had heard every detail about their approaching divorce settlement, their fight for full-time custody, and their plans for handling child support. It was a difficult subject to stomach at times, but Charlie had learned a lot about the state’s legal system from her parents’ arguments.

Charlie was an eleven-year-old whom people often described as too smart for her own good. She had short dark hair, big brown eyes, and beautiful olive skin. She always wore a big denim jacket with a short puffy skirt, bright leggings, and big boots. Charlie chewed on her favorite bottle-cap necklace as she listened to the discussion she wasn’t supposed to hear.

However, tonight’s entertainment had nothing to do with her parents or their pending divorce. Charlie was hanging on every word of a conversation between her mother and her uncle Matthew, and from the little she’d heard so far, they were talking about her beloved Grandpa Conner.

“I went to Dad’s house around eight o’clock tonight to check on him,” Matthew said. “When I arrived I found him in his study reading, just like normal, but when I took a closer look I saw he was reading one of his own books. I asked him what he was doing and he said trying to remember.”

“But trying to remember what?” Charlie’s mother asked. “Did he forget about something in his books?”

Matthew sighed. “It’s way worse than that, Elizabeth,” he said. “Remember the question he got asked on his birthday about Aunt Alex? Well, his answer wasn’t a joke—Dad genuinely forgot where she was. But instead of asking one of us, he thought he could find the answer in one of his stories.”

“What? But that doesn’t make sense.”

“He convinced himself that the whereabouts of his eighty-year-old twin sister could be found in one of his children’s books. He’s been rereading the Fairytaletopia series, trying to find it.”

“Oh my gosh,” Elizabeth said. “I knew he was having trouble remembering things, but this isn’t memory loss, this is classic dementia.”

“Dad tried to tell me all his books were autobiographical—just like he always does with his readers,” Matthew said. “All his stories about the fairy-tale world and his adventures in classic literature were fun when we were kids, but now they’re really concerning. I think Dad has lost his grip on reality. Last month, he told Ayden and Grayson that magic was real—it took Henry and me a couple of days to convince them Grandpa was only teasing them.”

“All right, I hear what you’re saying,” Elizabeth said. “Dad needs help, that much is clear. But what are we going to do to help him?”

“Unfortunately, we don’t have time to deal with this ourselves,” Matthew said. “We’ve got kids, jobs, even divorces to worry about. So on my way here, I spoke with the manager of Sunset Crest—it’s an assisted living community up the interstate. They’ve got people who are trained to handle this sort of thing. The manager said they can take him as early as Wednesday.”

Charlie’s mouth dropped open and her bottle-cap necklace fell from her mouth. She couldn’t believe her uncle wanted to put her grandpa in an assisted living place. Her grandpa had always been wacky, that was why she loved him so much, but he was far from being a danger to himself.

“That’s in two days, Matt,” Elizabeth said. “We can’t ship Dad off to some facility with such little notice. That’s just cruel.”

“It would be crueler if we did nothing,” Matthew said. “Look, I love Dad more than anything—that’s why I want to help him before it’s too late. I know a judge downtown who’ll give us power of attorney so we can make this as easy a transition as possible.”

“I suppose if the roles were reversed, Dad would do anything he could to protect us, and this is just returning that favor. But it’s going to break poor Charlie’s heart. She and Dad are so close. I hope she can handle not having him around.”

Before her mother finished her sentence, Charlie already knew exactly how she was going to handle it. She quietly stepped out of her bedroom window, climbed down the branches of a tree, and hopped on her bike. She pedaled as fast as she could across town to Grandpa Conner’s house so she could warn him about his children’s terrible plans.

Her grandpa lived in a large brick house that sat on top of a hill and was surrounded by an iron gate. Charlie climbed over the gate and ran up the winding driveway to the front door. She rang the doorbell a dozen times and pounded on the door as if her life depended on it. A few moments later, Mr. Bailey answered the door in an awful fright.

“Charlie?” he asked. “What on earth are you doing out at this hour? Are you hurt?”

“I’m sorry for coming so late, but it’s an emergency!” Charlie announced. “We need to talk right away.”

Charlie stormed into the house and headed for her grandpa’s study. She took a seat in the red armchair by the window, and he took the blue chair by the fireplace—their usual spots.

“Now tell me, what’s so urgent?” Mr. Bailey asked.

“Mom and Uncle Matt are going to put you in a home,” Charlie said. “They think you’ve gone crazy because you believe in magic and think your stories are real. They made plans to take you away on Wednesday and they know a judge who’s going to give them power of attorney.”

“Is that so?” Mr. Bailey asked with a blank expression.

“I heard the whole thing from the stairwell,” Charlie said. “I’m not sure what power of attorney is, but if it’s anything like the attorneys handling my parents’ divorce, it can’t be good.”

Charlie was very surprised to see how calm Mr. Bailey was. Her grandpa just sat quietly in his chair and thought.

“Well?” Charlie asked. “What are you going to do? Are you going to run away to the circus? Are you going to flee to Mexico? You’ve got to do something before they take you, Grandpa—you’re the only friend I have.”

His granddaughter’s concern warmed his heart.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m not going to an assisted living facility on Wednesday,” he reassured her. “As a matter of fact, I have plans to visit my sister this week, and they can’t take a man they can’t find.”

“But Uncle Matt said you didn’t know where your sister was,” Charlie said.

Her grandpa nervously glanced from side to side like he was hiding something.

“Oh, well, I remember now,” he explained. “You see, when you get older, things come and go like birds in a tree. When I finally remembered where my sister was, it also dawned on me that I had made plans to see her. So there you have it—a perfectly reasonable explanation.”

Charlie wasn’t buying it. She started to wonder if her uncle and mom were right to be concerned.

“Grandpa, do you really believe in magic?” she asked.

“Of course I do,” he said. “Don’t you?”

“Uncle Matt says I’m not supposed to,” Charlie said. “He thinks it means someone’s lost touch with reality.”

Mr. Bailey let out a long, anguished sigh.

“Sweetheart, I love your uncle and your mother with all my heart, but they inherited their personalities from your grandmother’s side of the family. Even when they were children, they were too practical for their own good. But don’t ever let anyone tell you magic isn’t real. A kid who doesn’t believe in magic is like a painting without color.”

“I want to believe,” Charlie said. “But it’s hard to take your word for it. I guess I’m waiting for some kind of proof.”

“Ah, but that’s the most mysterious part about magic,” her grandpa said with a twinkle in his eye. “You never know when it’s going to reveal itself to you. That’s why it’s so important to keep an open mind—you don’t want to miss it when the time comes.”

Even if her grandpa was crazy, Charlie still loved playing along.

Mr. Bailey glanced at his watch and jumped up from his chair. “Would you look at the time?” he said. “My sister will be here any minute to collect me and I haven’t even had a chance to pack. You should head home before it gets too late.”

“How long will you be gone, Grandpa?” Charlie asked.

“Long enough to teach your mom and uncle a lesson,” he said. “But don’t worry, I’ll be back in time for your birthday. I have something very special I’ve been saving for the occasion. Now, off you go.”

Mr. Bailey walked his granddaughter to the front door and hugged her good-bye. But Charlie wasn’t ready to leave just yet. Instead of walking down the hill and getting back on her bike, she snuck into her grandpa’s flowerbed and hid behind the bushes. She wanted to see if her great-aunt Alex was actually coming, or if her grandpa was as delusional as her mom and uncle thought.

Charlie had only seen her great-aunt once or twice in her entire life, so she wasn’t sure she’d even recognize the woman. However, as the minutes dragged on, that proved to be less and less of a problem. No one drove up the driveway to collect her grandpa.

Suddenly, a bright flash shined out from her grandpa’s house. Charlie peeked through the window to see what had caused it. It was hard to see past all her grandpa’s furniture, but Charlie saw that a beautiful older woman had appeared in the living room. She had bright blue eyes and long white hair, and she wore a sparkling robe and headband made of silver flowers.

“Conner? Are you ready yet?” the woman called to him.

Charlie heard thumps as Mr. Bailey came down the stairs from the second floor.

“Sorry, I just remembered to pack!” he said.

“What do you mean, you just remembered?” the old woman asked. “We’ve had this trip planned for months. Are you taking the memory potion I left you?”

“I was until I forgot about it,” Mr. Bailey said. “I found it in the fridge this evening and everything came back to me. You wouldn’t believe how worried I was without it—I couldn’t remember where you were and thought something terrible had happened to you when we were kids.”

“You crazy old man,” she said. “When I bring you back home, I’m going to leave a note in every room of your house to remind you to take it. Now come along, everyone is so excited to see you. Red’s throwing an elaborate banquet for you, but fair warning, it’s just an excuse to perform her one-woman rendition of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Oh, and word to the wise, Goldilocks broke another hip teaching her grandkids how to do back handsprings. You know how sensitive she gets about injuries, so don’t call attention to it—especially if Jack and Froggy start joking about it.”

“My lips are sealed,” Mr. Bailey said. “I’m looking forward to seeing everyone, too. I’m not even there yet, but it already feels good to be back. Lead the way, Alex.”

Another bright flash of light beamed out of the house. It was a few moments before Charlie could see again. By the time her eyes adjusted, her grandpa and great-aunt had vanished. Charlie knew they couldn’t have just disappeared into thin air, so she climbed through an open window and searched the house.

“Grandpa? Aunt Alex?” she called. “Where’d you guys go?”

Suddenly, Charlie heard a mysterious vibration coming from above her. She followed the strange noise all the way up the stairs and into the attic. The attic was covered in dust and filled with boxes of her grandpa’s old junk. Charlie searched the room for whatever was making the odd sound but didn’t find anything out of the ordinary.

Just as she was about to give up and head home, Charlie spotted something out of the corner of her eye. In the middle of the dusty floor was a large emerald-green storybook she had never seen before. Charlie picked up the book, blew the dust off the cover, and read the golden title across the top.

“The Land of Stories?” she said. “Hmmm, that sounds familiar.”

Although she was convinced her eyes were playing tricks on her, Charlie watched in amazement as the storybook’s pages started to glow….

The End