“Do you think the wicked witches and cruel stepmothers in your storybooks just appeared, like that?” I snapped my fingers. “Do you think they were hatched from witches’ eggs, or sprung from the devil’s brow fully formed? Even women like me, at odds with the world, have a past. We were all girls once—clay to be molded—but not all of us were allowed to grow and flourish as we should.”
