Glinda held the slippers in both hands, feeling their weight. The girl who'd fallen from the sky needed protection for the road ahead, and this was all she had left to give. She knelt and slipped them onto Dorothy's feet, knowing what it would cost them both. The house still sat crooked where it had landed, one corner crushing the pillar that had held the slippers only hours before. The witch beneath was long gone, but her sister would come for what remained. Glinda had seen this pattern before. Power drew attention, and Dorothy was carrying it now on her feet. Dorothy stared down at the red gleam against the yellow bricks. She didn't understand what they meant yet. Glinda didn't tell her about the sister or the hunger that would follow. She would learn the danger soon enough. For now, she needed to believe the road was possible. Glinda stood and pointed toward the archway where the path began. Dorothy took her first step, and the bricks caught the light like a promise. Glinda watched her go, carrying the one thing that might save her and the one thing that would make her a target. The choice was made. Now came the watching.

Glinda followed at a distance, keeping Dorothy in sight as the yellow bricks curved into farmland. The girl walked with her shoulders back, like someone who believed the road would be safe. That wouldn't last. Glinda had seen too many travelers start with confidence and end with nothing. The cornfield came into view where the road bent east. The stalks stood higher than Dorothy's head, golden and thick, rustling in a wind that smelled like earth and something sweeter. An old farm building sagged at the field's edge, its door hanging open. Someone had worked this land once, before the road became too dangerous to tend. Glinda stopped when she saw the figure on the pole. The scarecrow hung crooked in the corn rows, arms spread wide, its stitched face grinning at nothing. Dorothy had already noticed it. She left the road and walked toward it through the stalks. Glinda moved closer, watching. The girl reached up and touched the scarecrow's hand like she was greeting something alive. Then it moved. The scarecrow's head turned, straw crackling, and Dorothy jumped back. Glinda's hand went to her side, ready, but the thing just hung there, blinking painted eyes at the girl. Not a trap. Not a threat. Something else entirely. Dorothy laughed, nervous but not afraid, and Glinda understood what she was watching. The road had just offered Dorothy her first companion, and the girl was going to take it. That changed things. Glinda had planned to guard her alone, to control every variable. Now there would be another presence on the path, something Glinda hadn't chosen and couldn't predict.