My Evil Stepmother, The Comedic Terror

Previously

…My gaze fell upon the blank cover. No title. No name. Just the promise of secrets. I knew, even before I opened it, that this was no ordinary diary. This was a map, a key, a weapon. And I, Alex, the perpetually bewildered child, had just stumbled upon the first, dusty secret. The question now was, what would I do with it? The weight of it in my hands felt immense, a responsibility I hadn’t asked for, but one I now undeniably possessed. The air in the attic, once thick with the scent of neglect, now seemed to hum with a new, potent mystery.