So what if 12-year-old Jack's great-great-great-great-great aunt has oddly youthful looks? (Probably cosmetic surgery.) Or a hat she never removes? (Fashion victim.) Or goes out into the creepy forest at midnight to play bingo? (Must be what people do in the country.) Who cares about that when her cottage doesn't even have Wi-Fi? Forced to visit his distant relative with the unusual name of Gretel, Jack is about to find out that fairy tales aren't sparkly, cheesy love stories. They're dark. They have claws. They're a warning. And when you're the unwilling hero of your own fairy tale, you might be the one who's taught a nasty lesson.