**An Unforgettable Celebration: The Return of the Restaurant**
Emily was heading home with her husband, James, after a delightful birthday dinner at their favourite restaurant. The evening had been splendidpacked with relatives, workmates, and a few unfamiliar faces James had insisted on inviting. Emily wasnt one to question his choices; she loathed arguments and found it easier to nod along than prove a point.
“Emily, do you have the flat keys handy? Could you fish them out?”
She rummaged through her handbag, then yelped as a sharp pain shot through her finger. The bag tumbled to the pavement.
“Whats wrong?” James frowned.
“Something pricked me.”
“Honestly, love, your bags a black hole of chaos. No surprise there.”
Emily didnt argue. She scooped up the bag, carefully retrieved the keys, and they stepped inside. The sting was forgottenher feet ached, and all she wanted was a hot shower and bed.
By morning, her finger was swollen, red, and throbbing. She recalled the prick and combed through her bag. At the bottom lay a large, rusty needle.
“What on earth?”
She hadnt the foggiest how it got there. Tossing it, she dug out the first-aid kit, bandaged her finger, and dragged herself to work. By lunch, she was burning up.
She called James. “I feel dreadful. Fever, headache, body like Ive been trampled by a horse. And I found a rusty needle in my bag.”
“Could be tetanusor worse. See a doctor.”
“Dont fuss. Ive cleaned it. Ill be fine.”
Yet hour by hour, she worsened. Barely surviving her shift, she hailed a cab home and collapsed on the sofa, sinking into a deep sleep.
She dreamed of her grandmother, Margaret, whod passed when Emily was small. Though stooped and frail in the dream, Emily knewsomehowshe was there to help. Margaret led her through a meadow, pointing out herbs for a cleansing tea. “Someone wishes you harm,” she warned. “But you must survive to face them. Times running out.”
Emily woke drenched in cold sweat. Only minutes had passed. The front door clickedJames. He paled at the sight of her.
“Blimey, look at yourself!”
The mirror reflected a stranger: tangled hair, hollow eyes, skin like parchment.
“Whats happening to me?”
Then she remembered the dream. “Gran visited me. She told me what to do”
“Emily, get dressed. Were going to hospital.”
“No. She said doctors cant help.”
A row eruptedtheir first proper shouting match. James even tried dragging her out, gripping her arm. “If you wont go nicely, Ill make you.”
She wrenched free, stumbled, and smacked into a corner. James stormed out, slamming the door. Emily texted her boss: *Down with something nasty. Need a few days.*
James returned near midnight, apologising, but Emily cut in: “Take me to Grans village tomorrow.”
At dawn, she looked half-dead. James pleaded, “Dont be daft. Lets go to hospital. I cant lose you.”
Yet they drove to the villagea place Emily hadnt visited since her parents sold Margarets cottage. She dozed until, nearing the outskirts, she jolted awake. “There.”
Weakly, she staggered to the grass, certain this was the spot from her dream. She gathered the herbs, and back home, James brewed the tea. With each sip, strength trickled back.
Later, she noticed her urine was black. Unfazed, she whispered, “The darkness is leaving”
That night, Margaret returned in a dream. “Someone cursed you with that needle. The teas a stopgapyou must uncover who did this.” She hinted James was involved. “Buy needles. Chant this over the largest: *Spirits of night, hear my plea, reveal my foe to me.* Hide it in Jamess bag. Whoever pricks themselves is guilty.”
Emily awoke, steadier. James stayed home, fretting as she insisted on nipping to the shops alone.
“Love, youre wobbling like a newborn lamb. Let me come.”
“Just make me soup. Im starving post-plague.”
That night, she slipped the needle into Jamess briefcase.
“Sure youll be alright?” he asked at bedtime.
“Ill manage.”
The next evening, James mentioned, “Odd thingIrina from accounting tried helping me with my keys today. Sliced her finger on a needle in my bag. Went off like a firework.”
“Irina? Whats between you two?”
“Emily, dont. Ive eyes only for you.”
“Was she at my birthday dinner?”
“Yes, but just as a colleague.”
The pieces clicked.
While James cooked, Emily dreamed again. Margaret explained: Irina wanted James for herself and had resorted to dark magic. Following instructions, Emily reversed the curse. Soon, James mentioned Irina was on sick leave”Doctors cant diagnose her.”
Weeks later, Emily visited Margarets grave for the first time since the funeral. She cleared weeds, laid flowers, and whispered, “Sorry I stayed away. Without you, Id be gone.”
A gentle breeze brushed her shoulderslike a ghostly hug. When she turned, no one was there.
