Of Tresses and Desperation

My life revolves around my daughter. It is true that she is not related to me through blood. We look nothing alike. She is so beautiful with golden hair kissed by the sun. Her tresses fall so long from her head that it trails behind her. Since she was a babe, I have kept her safe. I have provided for her. I am her patin, her godmother. Her parents may choose to believe that I kidnapped her those eighteen years ago. But that is not the truth. This tale of a witch desperate to have a daughter...