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Once upon a time, her mother had been as flawless as a storybook queen. Honora, meanwhile, had a small head, round body, and looked like a turkey.
With each new year, the whispers in town grew louder—“witch,” “villain,” “Evil School”—until she looked for excuses not to go out. First days, then weeks, until she haunted her graveyard house like a ghost.
“Turn yourself into a mirror. Then you’ll have a chance.”
Agatha couldn’t tell if she was nervous or just an idiot.
“Evil has many weapons on its side,” said Princess Uma, finally settling down. “Poisons, plagues, curses, hexes, henchmen, and black, black magic. But you have animals!” Agatha snickered. When faced with an axe-wielding henchman, she would be sure to bring a butterfly.
Agatha wondered what these girls’ souls would wish for. Depth, perhaps.
“Oooh! Ooh! Marry me, Tedros!” hissed Agatha.
“One was beautiful and beloved and the other was a lonely hag.” “I like our story,” Sophie said. “It hasn’t gotten to the part where your prince punches you,” said Agatha.
