**Diary Entry**
Emily and her husband had just left the restaurant where theyd celebrated his birthday. The evening had been lovely. Plenty of guests had turned uprelatives, colleagues, even a few faces Emily didnt recognise. But if James had invited them, he mustve had his reasons.
Emily wasnt one to argue with her husband. She preferred to avoid conflict, even if it meant swallowing her own opinions. It was easier to agree than to pick a fight.
“Emily, love, where did you put the house keys? Can you fetch them?”
She rummaged through her handbag, fingers brushing against something sharp. A sudden jab of pain made her yank her hand back, sending the bag clattering to the pavement.
“What was that for?” James frowned.
“Something pricked me.”
“With all the rubbish in there, Im not surprised.”
Emily didnt argue. She scooped up the bag, fished out the keys, and pushed the incident from her mind. By the time they got home, her feet ached, and all she wanted was a hot shower and bed.
The next morning, her finger throbbedred, swollen, angry. Then she remembered. She emptied her bag carefully, item by item, until she found it: a rusted needle at the bottom.
“How on earth did that get in there?”
Baffled, she tossed it in the bin, dabbed antiseptic on the wound, and headed to work. By lunchtime, a fever had taken hold.
She rang James.
“James, I feel awful. Fever, headache, everything hurts. I found a rusty needle in my bagmustve pricked myself on it last night.”
“Maybe see a doctor? Could be tetanus or worse.”
“Dont fuss. I cleaned it. Ill be fine.”
But she wasnt. By evening, she could barely stand. She took a cab home, collapsed onto the sofa, and fell into a feverish sleep.
In her dream, she saw her late grandmother, Margaret. Shed passed when Emily was small, yet somehow, she *knew* her. The old womans gnarled hands beckoned, leading her through a sunlit meadow, pointing out herbs.
“Brew these,” Margaret whispered. “Theyll drive out the poison. Someone means you harm. You must fight backbut first, survive.”
Emily woke drenched in sweat. Only minutes had passed. The front door slammedJames was home.
“Bloody hell, look at yourself!” he gasped.
The mirror showed a stranger: tangled hair, sunken eyes, skin grey as ash.
“Nonsense,” she mutteredthen remembered the dream.
“Grandma Margaret came to me. She told me what to do”
“Emily, were going to hospital.”
“Im not. She said doctors cant help.”
They foughtproperly, for the first time. James grabbed her arm, tried dragging her out. She wrestled free, stumbled, fell. He stormed off with her bag, slamming the door behind him.
Alone, she texted her boss: *Too ill to work.*
James returned late, full of apologies.
“Take me to Grandmas village tomorrow,” she insisted.
By morning, she looked half-dead. James begged her to see sense, but they went anyway. The village name was all she rememberedher parents had sold the cottage years ago. She dozed the whole ride, yet as they neared the turn, she jolted awake.
“Here. Go right.”
She staggered from the car, collapsed into the grass, but *knew* this was the place. She gathered the herbs, returned home. James brewed the infusion. Sip by sip, strength returned.
In the bathroom, her urine ran black.
“The darkness is leaving,” she whispered.
That night, Margaret visited again.
“A cursethat needle. The herbs will help, but not forever. Find who did this. Your husbands involved. If youd kept the needle, Id know more. Butlisten. Buy new needles. Speak over the largest: *Spirits of night, once alive, show the foe who seeks to thrive.* Hide it in Jamess bag. Whoever cursed you will prick themselves. Then well know.”
Emily obeyed. When James left for work, the enchanted needle went with him. By evening, she felt stronger.
“How was your day?” she asked when he returned.
“Fine. Why?”
She nearly gave upuntil he added:
“Odd thingSarah from accounts tried helping me fish out my keys. Got jabbed by a needle in my bag. Went spare at me.”
“Whats between you and Sarah?”
“Dont be daft. Shes just a colleague.”
Now she understood how the needle had ended up in her bag.
That night, Margaret taught her how to reverse the curse. Soon after, James mentioned Sarah had fallen gravely illdoctors were stumped.
Emily visited Margarets grave for the first time since the funeral. She cleaned the headstone, laid flowers, and whispered:
“Sorry I never came. I thought once a year was enough. I was wrong. Thank youId be gone without you.”
A breeze brushed her shoulders. She turned. No one there.
**Lesson:** Some bonds outlast death. And some betrayals hide in plain sight.
