**A Memorable Birthday Dinner: A Couples Celebration**
Returning from the restaurant where wed celebrated my husbands birthday, I couldnt help but reflect on the evening. It had been lovelyfilled with relatives, colleagues, even a few faces Id never seen before. But if James had invited them, I trusted his judgment.
Ive never been one to argue with him. Disagreements only lead to drama, and Id rather avoid that. Its easier to go along with things than to insist Im right.
“Emily, do you have the flat keys? Can you grab them?” he asked as we reached the door. I rummaged through my handbag, then jerked my hand back with a sharp gasp, dropping the bag.
“Why did you scream?”
“Something stung me.”
“With all the junk in there, Im not surprised.”
I didnt argue. I picked up the bag, carefully retrieved the keys, and we went inside. By then, Id already forgotten the incident. My legs ached from the long evening, and all I wanted was a hot shower and bed. But the next morning, my hand throbbedmy finger swollen and red. Then I remembered. I emptied my bag, item by item, until I found it: a large, rusted needle buried at the bottom.
“What on earth?” I couldnt fathom how it got there. I tossed it in the bin, bandaged my finger, and left for work. By lunchtime, I was feverish.
I called James. “I dont know whats wrong. Ive got a fever, a headachemy whole body hurts. I found a rusted needle in my bag last night. Thats what stung me.”
“You should see a doctor. It could be tetanus or worse.”
“Dont be dramatic. I cleaned it. Itll be fine.”
But I only got worse. By evening, I could barely stand. I took a taxi home and collapsed on the sofa, drifting into a strange dream. My grandmother Margaret, whod died when I was little, appeared before me. Though her gaunt figure mightve frightened others, I felt only comfort.
She led me through a meadow, pointing out herbs I needed to brew into a tea. “Someone wishes you harm,” she warned. “But you must survive. Time is running out.”
I woke in a cold sweat. Only minutes had passed. The front door openedJames was home. He froze when he saw me. “Look at yourself!”
The mirror showed a stranger: tangled hair, hollow eyes, a ghostly pallor.
Then I remembered the dream. “Grandma told me what to do.”
“Emily, get dressed. Were going to the hospital.”
“No. She said doctors wont help.”
We argued fiercelythe first real fight wed ever had. He called me delusional, even tried dragging me out. I resisted, stumbled, and fell. Frustrated, he snatched my bag, slammed the door, and left. I texted my boss, blaming a nasty bug for my absence.
James returned near midnight, apologetic. All I said was, “Take me to Grandmas village.”
By morning, I looked half-dead. He begged, “Please, lets go to the hospital. I cant lose you.”
But we went. I slept the entire drive, waking only as we neared the village. “There,” I whispered, pointing to a field. Weak as I was, I knew it was the place from my dream. I found the herbs Grandma had shown me, and we returned home.
James brewed the tea. Each sip brought a flicker of strength. Later, in the bathroom, I saw my urine had turned blackbut instead of fear, I felt relief. “The poisons leaving,” I murmured.
That night, Grandma visited again, smiling this time. “The needle carried a curse. The tea will heal you, but not for long. We must find who did this. Its tied to James.”
Her instructions were clear: buy needles, chant a spell over the largest, and place it in Jamess bag. “Whoever cursed you will prick themselvesand well know.”
The next day, James stayed home, worried. But I insisted on going out alone. “Cook me some soup,” I said. “Im ravenous.”
I followed Grandmas plan. That evening, James mentioned Sandra from his office. “She reached into my bag for my keys and pricked herself on a needle. No idea how it got there. She looked furious.”
Everything clicked. Sandra had been at his birthday dinner.
That night, Grandma explainedSandra wanted me gone, using dark magic to take my place. I followed her instructions to reverse the curse. Soon, James mentioned Sandra was on sick leave, baffling doctors with her sudden illness.
That weekend, we visited Grandmas gravemy first time since the funeral. Clearing weeds from the headstone, I whispered, “Im sorry I never came. Without you, I wouldnt be here.”
A gentle breeze brushed my shoulderslike an embrace. But when I turned, there was no one. Just the quiet whisper of the wind.
