I sit back and smile. “That’ll work.” “Ironic though, isn’t it? Now you get to be a stepmother yourself. It’s almost like your taking her place.” My insides curdle at the thought. I don’t want to be a stepmother, especially not for that nasty little princess. She’ll do her best to make my life hellish, that I know. “What’s your daughter’s name?” I ask. Edgar snickers. “It might seem odd to you. She was such a beautiful baby – hair black as ebony, skin white as snow. So we called her Snow White.
-Anita Valle
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