**An Unforgettable Celebration: The Return to the Restaurant**
Emma was returning home with her husband, James, from a restaurant where theyd celebrated her birthday. The evening had been lovelypacked with relatives, colleagues, even a few faces she didnt recognise. But if James had invited them, she trusted his judgment.
Emma wasnt one to question her husbands decisions. She loathed arguments, preferring peace to proving a point.
“Emma, have you got the flat keys handy? Can you fetch them?”
She rummaged through her handbag, fingers brushing against something sharp. A sudden sting made her jerk her hand, sending the bag tumbling to the pavement.
“Whats wrong?” James asked.
“Something pricked me.”
“Honestly, your bags such a mess, its no surprise.”
Emma didnt argue. She picked it up, carefully retrieved the keys, and they stepped inside. The sharp pain was forgottenshe was exhausted, her feet ached, and all she wanted was a shower and bed.
The next morning, she woke to a throbbing, swollen finger, red and angry. Then she remembered. Digging through her bag, she found a large, rusted needle at the bottom.
“What on earth?”
She couldnt fathom how it got there. Tossing it away, she bandaged the wound and headed to work. By noon, fever gripped her.
She called James.
“James, I dont feel right. Fever, headachemy whole bodys battered. I found this rusted needle in my bag.”
“You should see a doctor. Could be tetanus or worse.”
“Dont fuss. Ive cleaned it. Ill be fine.”
But hour by hour, she worsened. Barely finishing her shift, she hailed a cab, collapsing onto the sofa the moment she got home.
In her dreams, her grandmotherAlice, long passedappeared. Though Emma barely remembered her, she *knew*. Bent with age, yet radiating warmth, Alice led her through a field, pointing out herbs for a healing brew. “Darkness is eating at you,” she warned. “Someone wishes you harm. Survive firstthen fight. Times short.”
Emma woke drenched in cold sweat. Minutes had passed. The door clickedJames, home early. He paled at the sight of her.
“Look at yourself!”
The mirror reflected a stranger: tangled hair, hollow eyes, skin ashen.
“Whats happening to me?”
Then she remembered. “I dreamt of Gran. She told me what to do”
“Emma, get dressed. Were going to hospital.”
“No. She said doctors cant help.”
Their first real row erupted. James called her mad, even grabbed her arm to drag her out.
“If you wont go willingly”
She wrenched free, stumbling into a corner. James snatched his coat and left, slamming the door. Weakly, Emma texted her boss: *Need sick leave.*
He returned near midnight, apologetic. Emmas voice was steady:
“Take me to Grans village tomorrow.”
By dawn, she looked cadaverous. James begged, “Emma, dont be daft. I cant lose you.”
Yet they drove. She dozed until the village neared, then pointed: *That way.* Staggering from the car, she collapsed onto the grassbut it was *the* spot from her dream. She gathered the herbs, and back home, James brewed the remedy. Sip by sip, strength trickled back.
Later, in the bathroom, her urine ran black. Unfazed, she whispered, “The darkness is leaving”
That night, Alice returned. The rusted needle had been a curse. The brew was temporaryEmma must unmask her enemy. “James is involved,” Alice murmured. “Had you kept the needle, Id know more. Heres what youll do”
She awoke resolute. Though frail, shed survive.
When James left for work, she slipped a new needle into his bag, reciting Alices spell:
*”Spirits of night, before you rest,*
*Hear me, shadowstruth confess.*
*Circle, mark, aid my plea,*
*Find the one whos harmed me.”*
That evening, James mentioned a colleague: “Irina tried helping with my keys todaygot pricked by a needle in my bag. Went spare about it.”
Emma froze. “Whats between you and Irina?”
“Love, its nothing. Just a coworker.”
“Was she at the restaurant?”
“Yes, but”
*Click.* The rusted needle in *her* bagplanted.
As James cooked, Emma slept. Alice returned, revealing Irinas jealousy: *Shed use any means to have him.*
Emma followed Grans instructions. Days later, James mentioned Irina was gravely illdoctors baffled.
On a weekend trip to Alices gravesite, Emma cleared weeds, laid flowers.
“Sorry I stayed away, Gran. Thought Mums visits were enough. I was wrong.”
A breeze brushed her shoulderslike an embrace.
Turning, she saw no one. Just the wind, soft as a sigh.
**Lesson:** Some bonds outlast death. And sometimes, the quietest voiceswhether in dreams or memoryhold the loudest truths.
