I talked. The girl got the poisoned apple.
Here I am now, telling the boss she is the most beautiful. She’s happy. Good. She’s wandered off.
I lied. Should I have lied about where the dwarves live? I don’t know. I know how stories work though. Something had to happen to make that boy on the horse turn up and fall for Snow White.
I’ve played my part.
I wish I felt better about it.
Magical mirrors aren’t supposed to keep secrets. I wish I wasn’t.