Starfish stretched out wide

 There's a starfish at the centre of the family tree.

Bluebeard's gone. He didn't lock her in a cupboard, he just left her to her fate.

The witch is alive and well and living in a one bed flat, with nurses and carers calling daily.

The creatures of light, who arrived one by one, now leave one by one, as is right.

And the starfish hunts for its centre, stretched out wide in the sun, on the hot, hot sands.