They kill her mother.

She is a villain, she must be killed, so Philip steps in front of her, sword drawn, eyes wide, three little fairies cheering atop her head.

They kill her mother and Mal weeps in Evie's arms, clutches to Jay's vest, grabs Carlos' hands. Her eyes glow green, bright and sick and magical and Mal weeps.

It is the middle of the day and they are in the middle of the dining hall, amongst princesses and princes and heroes' children and Mal sits on the floor, hair turning lilac, violet, turning magic again. What's wrong, Lonnie asks, what's wrong with her.

Evie hugs Mal close and whispers unintelligible words into her changing, growing hair. Carlos kisses her hands, tender and soft and careful. Jay takes Mal's face in his hands and mumbles a string of Arabian words only Aladdin's children can understand.

What is he saying, Audrey asks, an impatient tilt to her voice.

You are not your mother you are not her you will not be her the title does not make a villain you are not your mother.

Fairy godmother drops her tablet, shivering, pale and her appearance melts off her as if it was just a dress she puts on every morning. She is an old woman again, agile and small with kind eyes. Jane shivers and wraps her jacket around herself. Mom, she asks, mom, why am I so cold?

She's dead, Mal shrieks, she's dead and she's gone.

Fairy godmother pulls her daughter close to her chest. God help us, she whispers and kisses Jane's forehead, God help us.

What's wrong mom? What's wrong?

Maleficent is dead and slain by the same sword that has killed her once before and she lies at the bottom of the cliff and Mal clutches to her friends in Auradon and weeps, Evie whispers magic into her hair, into her heart, the core of her being, Carlos is soft and silent and Jay speaks Arabian.

And Mal grows horns.