Time was running out.  She needed to make it back to Central Park before her carriage turned back into pumpkins.

Fairy god-mother had changed the rules on her midway.  It was a game of survivor at this point.

She carried her mother’s bones in her backpack while she whispered to the horses. She had long lost her glass slippers. What an atrocious pair. She far-preferred her Doc-Martens.

She jumped off the carriage as if her lungs were collapsing.

She saw it. It was still there

She happily threw the bones through the Tardis for she was now The Doctor.