CURSED BY FATE

Chapter 3

I woke up to someone singing outside my bedroom door.

Badly.

Painfully badly.

I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling.

For a few seconds, I considered pretending I was still asleep.

Then the singing got louder.

“Happy birthday to you …”

I groaned.

“Please stop.”

The singing continued.

“Happy birthday to you …”

I pulled my blanket over my head.

“Elias.”

“Happy birthday, dear Jewel …”

“Elias.”

“Happy birthday—”

I threw my pillow at the door.

It hit something.

There was a brief silence.

Then I heard a laugh.

“You’re awake!”

I pulled the blanket off my face.

“Unfortunately.”

The door opened.

Elias stood there holding a plate with a slice of cake on it.

He was grinning.

“You’re twenty-one.”

“I’ve been aware of that for approximately twelve seconds.”

He walked into the room and held the cake out to me.

“Birthday cake.”

I stared at it.

“It’s seven in the morning.”

“Cake doesn’t have a time.”

“That’s not true.”

“Prove it.”

I sighed.

“You’re annoying.”

“You love me.”

“Debatable.”

He placed the plate on my bedside table.

Then he looked around my room.

“Why does it look like a tornado lives here?”

I looked around.

Clothes were scattered across my chair.

Books were stacked unevenly beside my bed.

One of my shoes was sitting on my desk.

I frowned.

“That’s organized.”

Elias looked at me.

“Sure.”

I reached for the cake.

He slapped my hand.

“Make a wish first.”

“I’m not five.”

“Make. A. Wish.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Fine.”

I closed my eyes.

I didn’t know what to wish for.

I had never been particularly good at wishes.

They always seemed too vague.

Too hopeful.

Too much like asking the universe for something it could easily decide not to give you.

Still, I closed my eyes.

I wished for a good year.

Nothing complicated.

Just that.

A good year.

I opened my eyes and blew out the tiny candle Elias had stuck into the cake.

He clapped.

“Beautiful.”

“I know.”

He picked up the plate.

“Wait. That’s my cake.”

“It’s my gift.”

“You brought me one slice.”

“Yes.”

“And now you’re taking it?”

“I’m hungry.”

I stared at him.

“Elias.”

He grinned and walked toward the door.

“Happy birthday, Jewel.”

“Give me my cake!”

He ran.

I jumped out of bed and chased him into the hallway.

“Come back here!”

His laughter echoed through the house.

“Mom!”

I stopped.

My mother was standing at the bottom of the stairs.

She looked up at me.

Then at Elias, who was already halfway down the hallway.

“What is happening?”

“He stole my cake!”

Elias held the plate above his head.

“She didn’t eat it!”

My mother sighed.

“Elias, give her the cake.”

He looked offended.

“But I’m hungry.”

“Then go eat breakfast.”

He reluctantly handed the plate to me.

I smiled triumphantly.

“Thank you.”

He stuck his tongue out.

I did the same.

My mother shook her head.

“You two are twenty-one and seventeen, not seven.”

“He started it,” I said.

Elias pointed at me.

“She always says that.”

“Because you always start it.”

My mother laughed softly.

For a moment, everything felt normal.

Warm.

Familiar.

Then I noticed something.

My mother wasn’t wearing her usual birthday smile.

She looked tired.

Almost sad.

I lowered the cake.

“Mom?”

She looked at me.

“Hmm?”

“Are you okay?”

Her expression changed.

Just slightly.

“Of course.”

“You don’t look okay.”

She smiled.

“I’m fine.”

I studied her.

I wanted to ask more.

But before I could, Seraphina came down the stairs.

She was carrying a small box wrapped in silver paper.

“Happy birthday.”

My face brightened.

“Thank you.”

She handed me the box.

I opened it carefully.

Inside was a delicate silver bracelet.

A tiny moon-shaped charm hung from it.

I smiled.

“It’s beautiful.”

Seraphina reached for my wrist.

“Let me put it on.”

I held out my arm.

She fastened the bracelet.

Then her fingers lingered around my wrist.

I looked at her.

She was staring at the bracelet.

Not admiring it.

Studying it.

“What’s wrong?”

She blinked and looked up.

“Nothing.”

“You’ve been saying that a lot lately.”

She smiled.

“You’re becoming suspicious.”

“I’ve always been suspicious.”

“That is true.”

Elias leaned against the wall.

“She’s nosy too.”

I turned toward him.

“You’re ruining my birthday.”

“It’s only seven-thirty.”

“Exactly. You have the entire day to stop.”

He laughed.

Seraphina shook her head.

“Go get dressed.”

I looked at my bracelet again.

The moon charm was beautiful.

Simple.

Elegant.

But there was something strange about it.

On the back of the moon was a tiny engraving.

The same symbol.

The one beneath the staircase.

My smile faded.

I touched it with my finger.

“Where did you get this?”

Seraphina’s expression changed.

Only for a second.

But I noticed.

“Why?”

I turned the bracelet over.

“This symbol.”

She looked at it.

Then at me.

“It belonged to Grandma.”

I frowned.

“Grandma?”

Seraphina nodded.

“Our grandmother.”

“I know who Grandma is.”

She smiled.

“Just checking.”

I rolled my eyes.

“When did she have this?”

“A long time ago.”

“Did she wear it?”

“Sometimes.”

I studied the bracelet.

“Why didn’t I ever see it?”

Seraphina shrugged.

“You were young.”

Something about her answer didn’t feel right.

But before I could ask another question, my mother called from the kitchen.

“Jewel!”

I looked toward her.

“Breakfast.”

“Coming!”

I looked back at Seraphina.

She smiled.

“Happy birthday.”

I smiled back.

“Thank you.”

But as I followed my mother into the kitchen, I couldn’t stop thinking about the bracelet.

And the symbol.

And why everyone in my family seemed to know exactly what it meant.

Except me.

༺🖤༻

By noon, I had received seventeen birthday messages, three phone calls and one voice note from Amara that lasted four minutes because apparently she believed saying happy birthday required a full documentary.

I sat on my bed listening to it.

“Happy birthday, birthday girl!”

Amara’s voice practically exploded through my phone.

“I hope you’re ready because tonight we’re going out. And before you say no, I’ve already decided for you.”

I smiled.

“Of course you have.”

“I have reservations.”

I sat up.

“Reservations where?”

“That’s a surprise.”

“Amara.”

“No.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“You’re terrible.”

“And yet you love me.”

I laughed.

The voice note continued.

“Also, wear something nice.”

I looked down at my oversized T-shirt and shorts.

“What counts as nice?”

There was a pause in the recording.

Then Amara’s voice returned.

“Anything that doesn’t look like you just escaped from a laundry basket.”

I gasped.

“How dare she?”

The voice note ended.

I laughed to myself.

Then my phone buzzed.

A message from my mother.

Come downstairs when you’re free.

I frowned.

I went downstairs.

My mother was sitting in the living room.

She looked serious.

“What’s wrong?”

She motioned for me to sit.

I did.

She reached for my hand.

“Jewel, there’s something I want to tell you.”

My heart skipped.

“What?”

She hesitated.

Then smiled.

“I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you.”

I stared at her.

“That was dramatic.”

She laughed softly.

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

She squeezed my hand.

“You’re growing up.”

“I’ve been growing up for twenty-one years.”

“I know.”

Her eyes became slightly glassy.

I frowned.

“Mom?”

She shook her head.

“Nothing.”

I sighed.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Looking like you’re about to cry and then pretending you’re not.”

She laughed through the emotion.

“Maybe I’m just emotional.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re twenty-one.”

I smiled.

“That’s a strange reason to cry.”

She pulled me into a hug.

I hugged her back.

For some reason, the embrace felt different.

Like she was holding on to me.

Like she was afraid that if she let go, something would take me away.

I pulled back slightly.

“Mom?”

She looked at me.

“Promise me something.”

“What?”

“Whatever happens…”

She stopped.

Her eyes searched mine.

Then she smiled.

“Nothing.”

I frowned.

“What were you going to say?”

She shook her head.

“Go get ready for your dinner.”

I stared at her.

“You’re terrible at secrets.”

She laughed.

“And you’re terrible at letting them go.”

“True.”

I stood.

Then paused.

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

Her smile softened.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

I walked upstairs.

I didn’t notice the way she watched me leave.

I didn’t notice the fear in her eyes.

And I definitely didn’t notice my father standing silently in the hallway.

Watching too.

༺🖤༻

That evening, I stood in front of my mirror trying to decide whether my outfit looked like I had made an effort.

Amara had insisted on something “nice.”

So I wore a black dress.

Simple.

Comfortable.

Not too dramatic.

I looked at myself.

“Okay.”

I nodded.

“Acceptable.”

My phone buzzed.

AMARA: I’m outside.

I grabbed my bag.

Before leaving my room, I glanced at the silver bracelet on my wrist.

The moon charm caught the light.

For a second, the engraved symbol seemed darker than before.

I blinked.

It looked normal again.

I frowned.

Maybe I was tired.

I left the room.

As I reached the stairs, I heard my father’s voice from the study.

“I don’t think we have much time.”

I stopped.

My father’s voice was low.

My mother’s voice followed.

“She doesn’t know anything.”

“She will.”

Silence.

Then my father said something I couldn’t hear.

I leaned closer.

The floor creaked beneath my foot.

The voices stopped.

I froze.

A second later, the study door opened.

My father stepped out.

He looked directly at me.

Neither of us spoke.

Then his eyes dropped to the bracelet on my wrist.

His face changed.

For the first time in my life, I saw genuine fear on my father’s face.

He looked at the bracelet.

Then at me.

“Where did you get that?”

I looked down at my wrist.

“Seraphina gave it to me.”

He stared at it for another moment.

Then he looked toward the stairs.

“Take it off.”

I frowned.

“What?”

“Take it off, Jewel.”

His voice was sharper this time.

I instinctively covered the bracelet with my other hand.

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

I stared at him.

“No.”

His expression hardened.

“Jewel.”

I shook my head.

“You’re going to have to explain.”

For several seconds, neither of us moved.

Then my father looked away.

“Not tonight.”

I laughed nervously.

“Of course.”

I walked past him.

But as I reached the front door, I looked back.

My father was still standing in the hallway.

Staring at the bracelet.

And for the first time, I realized something.

My birthday wasn’t making my family nervous because I was turning twenty-one.

Something about twenty-one itself scared them.

I just didn’t know what.

Yet.