**A Birthday to Remember: The Couples Special Dinner**
Emily was on her way back from the restaurant with her husband, where they had celebrated his birthday. It had been a lovely evening, filled with relatives and colleaguesmany of whom shed never met before. But if James had chosen to invite them, she supposed it must be important.
Emily wasnt one to argue with her husbands decisions. She preferred peace over pointless quarrels. It was easier to agree than to insist she was right.
“Emily, do you have the flat keys on you? Can you grab them?”
She rummaged through her handbag when a sharp pain shot through her finger. With a gasp, she jerked her hand back, dropping the bag.
“What was that?” James frowned.
“Something stung me.”
“With all the clutter in there, Im not surprised.”
She bit back a retort, carefully retrieving the keys. By the time they got home, shed nearly forgotten the incident. Exhausted, she longed for a hot shower and bed.
But the next morning, her finger throbbedred, swollen. The memory of last night returned, and she emptied her bag. At the bottom lay a long, rusted needle.
“How did this get here?”
Confused, she tossed it away and bandaged the wound before heading to work. By lunch, fever set inaching muscles, pounding headache. She called James.
“I think Ive caught something. That rusty needleit mustve infected me.”
“Maybe you should see a doctor. It could be tetanus.”
“Dont be dramatic. I cleaned it.”
Yet she only grew worse. Barely making it through the day, she took a cab home and collapsed on the sofa.
In a dream, her late grandmotherMargaretappeared. Though she barely remembered her, she knew it was her. Despite her ghostly appearance, Emily felt safe.
Her grandmother led her through a field, pointing out herbs for a cleansing brew. “Someone wishes you harm,” she warned. “You must fight it. Time is short.”
Emily woke drenched in sweat. Only minutes had passed. James arrived home, shocked at her ghastly reflection in the mirrorpale, hollow-eyed.
“I dreamed of Gran. She told me what to do.”
“Emily, you need a hospital!”
“No. The doctors wont help.”
They argued fiercelyJames called her delusional, even tried dragging her out. She resisted, stumbling and falling. Frustrated, he stormed off.
He returned near midnight, apologetic.
“Take me to Grans village,” she insisted.
The next morning, she looked like death itself. James pleaded, but they went. She slept through the drive, waking only as they neared the village.
“There.”
Weakly, she staggered to the field from her dream, gathering the herbs. Back home, James brewed the remedy. Each sip brought reliefthough later, black urine startled her.
“Its working,” she whispered. “The poisons leaving.”
That night, Gran returned in another dream. “You were cursed through that needle. The brew helps, but we must find who did thissomeone tied to James.”
She instructed Emily to enchant a new needle, placing it in Jamess bag. “Whoever cursed you will prick themselves, revealing their name.”
The next day, James mentioned Sandra, a colleague whod reached into his bag and been pricked. “She glared at me like she wanted to kill me.”
“Was she at your birthday dinner?”
“Yes, but shes just a colleague.”
The puzzle clickedSandra had planted the needle.
Gran reappeared in a dream, guiding Emily on how to reverse the curse. Soon, James mentioned Sandra was mysteriously ill.
That weekend, Emily visited Grans grave for the first time in years. Clearing weeds, she laid flowers.
“Im sorry I never came sooner. Without you, I wouldnt be here.”
A gentle breeze brushed her shoulderslike a ghostly embrace.
