**Diary Entry: Reflections After a Birthday Dinner**
Last night, Oliver and I returned from his birthday celebration at a lovely restaurant in London. It was a wonderful eveningfilled with laughter, family, and colleagues. Most of the guests Id never met before, but if Oliver invited them, I trusted his judgment. Ive never been one to argue with his decisions; Id rather avoid conflict than prove a point.
“Emily, can you find your keys?” Oliver asked as we stood at the front door. I rummaged through my handbag, fingers brushing against something sharp. A sudden, stabbing pain shot through my hand, and I dropped the bag with a gasp.
“Whats all the fuss about?” Oliver frowned.
“I pricked myself on something.”
“Your bags a messno wonder.”
I didnt argue. I picked it up, retrieved the keys, and stepped inside, already forgetting the incident. Exhausted, all I wanted was a shower and bed. But the next morning, my finger throbbedswollen, red, and stiff. Then I remembered. I emptied my bag carefully and found a large, rusted needle at the bottom.
“What on earth?” I muttered, tossing it in the bin before disinfecting the wound. By lunchtime, I was burning upmy head ached, my body weak. I called Oliver.
“Somethings wrong. I found a rusty needle in my bagI mustve pricked myself on it.”
“See a doctor, Emily. It could be serious.”
“Dont worry, I cleaned it. Ill be fine.”
But I wasnt. By evening, I could barely stand. I took a taxi home and collapsed on the sofa, slipping into a strange dream.
My grandmotherMargaret, whod passed when I was a childappeared before me. I *knew* it was her, though Id barely known her in life. She led me through a field, pointing out herbs. *”Make a tea,”* she whispered. *”It will cleanse the darkness inside you. Someone wishes you harm. But to fight, you must stay alive. You have little time.”*
I woke drenched in sweat. Only minutes had passed. When Oliver returned, he paled at the sight of me.
“Look at yourself!”
The mirror showed a strangerpale, hollow-eyed, hair tangled. Then I remembered the dream.
“I saw Gran. She told me what to do”
“Emily, were going to the hospital.”
“No! She said doctors cant help.”
We foughtthe first real argument wed ever had. He even tried to drag me out, but I collapsed. By midnight, he returned, apologetic.
“Take me to Grans village tomorrow,” I whispered.
The next morning, I looked like death itself. Still, we drove to the countrysidea place I hadnt visited since her funeral. Exhausted, I slept the entire way, waking only as we arrived.
“There,” I pointed weakly.
I stumbled from the car, collapsing in the grass. But I *knew* this was the field from my dream. I gathered the herbs Gran had shown me. Back home, Oliver brewed the tea. With each sip, strength returneduntil I visited the loo and saw black in the toilet bowl.
*”The darkness is leaving,”* I whispered.
That night, Gran visited again. *”The needle carried a curse,”* she said. *”Find who did this. Your husband is involved. Buy a new needlesay these wordsthen hide it in his bag. The guilty one will prick themselves. Then youll know.”*
At the shop, I did as she instructed. That evening, I placed the needle in Olivers briefcase. By morning, he seemed uneasy.
“Strange thing todayEve from accounting reached into my bag and pricked herself. She looked at me like *I* did it.”
*Eve.* Shed been at his birthday dinner. Suddenly, the pieces fit.
That night, Gran taught me how to return the curse. Soon after, Oliver mentioned Eve had fallen illdoctors were baffled.
Last weekend, I visited Grans grave for the first time in years. As I tidied the plot, I felt her hands on my shouldersjust a breeze, but I *knew*.
“Gran,” I whispered, “Im sorry I stayed away. Without you, Id be gone.”
And for the first time in weeks, I felt at peace.
