“A curse,” she whispered, still smiling to herself. “A little curse, just as she said. Just as she told me.” The midwife clutched the child close, locking her fingers to still their shaking. She gazed down at her daughter, lying limp on the table, a dark pool of blood between her thighs. “Just as who told you?” “The woman in the woods,” the dying girl whispered, barely breathing. “The witch. The Beast.”
