Greta's on the ground, now, though she doesn't remember how she got there. The brutal nature of the Witch's exposition doesn't surprise her - she never did care about anyone but herself, never showed the slightest inclination towards sympathy. It's just like the first time, when she'd blasted their door in and casually informed them of the Curse upon their house.

But there's no magical solution this time. No list of ingredients she can gather that will fix this. The Witch needs nothing from her, and will give nothing. She's just being left here, broken and hopeless and alone.

No, not alone. Iman is still here. Suddenly consumed by the not entirely unreasonable fear that Iman will go after the woman, attempt to exact some kind of revenge, Greta clings to her friend desperately. "Please," she gasps out between sobs, unable to articulate any more than that.