As she made her way downstairs to start her day’s work she heard a knock at the front door. No one ever came to visit them, and so a sudden thrill washed over her. What if it was the Grand Duke to let her know Sir Richard had been killed? She instantly felt bad for thinking so.

She opened the door and found three identical women standing there. They were young women, but at the same time there was something ancient about them, giving them an odd look of timelessness. They were an indistinguishable trio of witches, with stark white faces and large, deep-set eyes that protruded bulbously from their heavily darkened sockets, which was in morbid contrast to their vividly painted cheeks and lips. Lady Tremaine didn’t know what to make of these women and thought perhaps they were traveling actors wishing to put on a display for the family.

“Hello, ladies, may I help you?” she asked, looking them up and down. All three wore voluminous long black dresses cinched tightly at the waist, with bodices trimmed in silver, and sparkly golden flower arrangements in their black hair.

“We are here to help you, Lady Tremaine,” said the woman in the middle. “My name is Lucinda, and these are my sisters, Ruby and Martha.” She motioned to her sisters in succession, with the eeriest smile Lady Tremaine had ever seen. But before Lady Tremaine could speak, Lucinda got the strangest look on her face, and within moments both of her sisters looked as if they were panic-stricken. “My sisters and I sense that you have a servant here by the name of Nanny, is that true? Please tell us you haven’t given her your brooch. We don’t see you wearing it,” she said, trying to peer into the house, her eyes wide like a wild bird.

Lady Tremaine was taken aback. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” she said. “And how do you know about my brooch?” She reached for it and was surprised to find it wasn’t there, then remembered she always took it off to do the housecleaning. “Who exactly are you women?” she asked. Something about them made it hard for her to keep her thoughts straight. She kept feeling as if she was trying to bring herself out of a haze after each time they spoke.

“Oh, this is a small kingdom, my lady,” said Lucinda, cackling to herself under her breath.

“Yes, very small,” said Ruby.

“Your story is well known to us. We’re watching it being written,” said Martha.

“We know of your hardships, my lady. We know you’re a prisoner in your own home. A servant to Sir Richard and his brat daughter, Cinderella. But we can help,” said Lucinda.