Manon didn’t know where to stare, what to do with her arms. A stillborn was a witch’s greatest sorrow—and shame. But for her grandmother … Asterin unbuttoned her jacket and shrugged it off into the flowers. She removed her shirt, and the one beneath, until her golden skin glowed in the sunlight, her breasts full and heavy. Asterin turned, and Manon fell to her knees in the grass. There, branded on Asterin’s abdomen in vicious, crude letters was one word: UNCLEAN
