CURSED BY FATE

Chapter 4

The first thing I did after my father told me to take off the bracelet was absolutely nothing.

Not because I was obedient.

Because I was stubborn.

There was a difference.

I stood in front of the mirror that evening, staring at the silver bracelet around my wrist.

The little moon charm rested against my skin, catching the light whenever I moved.

I turned my wrist.

The symbol was still there.

That strange circle.

Those lines.

The thorn-like shapes around it.

I had spent most of the afternoon trying not to think about it.

Naturally, I had thought about nothing else.

I had even searched for the symbol online.

Nothing.

I tried image search.

Nothing.

I searched variations of the word Del-Raye.

Family history websites. Genealogy pages. Old records.

Nothing useful.

Either my family was incredibly boring before I was born, or they had become suspiciously good at hiding things.

I was leaning toward the second option.

A knock sounded on my bedroom door.

“Come in.”

Amara pushed the door open without waiting.

She looked at me from head to toe.

Then she frowned.

“You’re wearing the bracelet.”

I looked down.

“Yes.”

“He told you to take it off?”

“My father did.”

“And you’re wearing it?”

“Yes.”

She stared at me.

I stared back.

“You know,” she said slowly, “sometimes I forget how much of a problem you are.”

I smiled.

“It’s one of my best qualities.”

“That’s not a quality.”

“It’s definitely a quality.”

“It’s a personality defect.”

“Same family.”

She rolled her eyes and walked inside.

“You ready?”

I grabbed my purse from the bed.

“Almost.”

Amara glanced at my outfit.

Black dress. Boots. Simple silver earrings.

She nodded approvingly.

“Okay. You look good.”

“I always look good.”

“Your confidence is honestly concerning.”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“I accepted it as one.”

She sighed.

I grinned.

This was normal.

This was exactly what I needed.

A night where nobody whispered in another room.

A night where my father didn’t look at me like I was carrying a bomb.

A night where my mother didn’t hug me like she was afraid she might never get another chance.

A night where nobody told me to take off a bracelet without explaining why.

Just me.

Amara.

Food.

Music.

And absolutely no mysterious family secrets.

At least, that was the plan.

༺🖤༻

The restaurant was crowded.

Loud music played in the background, people laughed at different tables, and somewhere behind us, someone was arguing about whether pineapple belonged on pizza.

I immediately decided I liked the place.

Amara raised an eyebrow when she saw me smiling.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re doing that thing.”

“What thing?”

“That thing where you’re pretending everything is fine.”

I picked up my glass.

“Everything is fine.”

She stared at me.

I stared back.

“You’re lying.”

“I am not.”

“You’re talking too much.”

I stopped.

She smiled.

“Exactly.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“You’re enjoying this.”

“Very much.”

I took a sip of my drink.

“Fine. My family is acting weird.”

“Your family has always been weird.”

“Not like this.”

Amara’s smile faded slightly.

She leaned closer.

“What happened?”

I hesitated.

I could tell her.

I wanted to.

But how exactly was I supposed to explain it?

Hey, my father saw this bracelet and looked like he’d seen a ghost. Also, there’s a creepy symbol underneath our staircase that apparently belongs to my family. Also, someone has been watching me around campus.

Normal conversation.

Definitely something people discussed over dinner.

I shook my head.

“Nothing.”

Amara gave me a look.

I sighed.

“Okay. Something.”

“Go on.”

“You know my dad told me to take off the bracelet Seraphina gave me.”

Her eyes dropped to my wrist.

“Yes, Why?”

“He didn’t say.”

“And you asked?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“He said, ‘Not tonight.’”

Amara stared at me.

“That is possibly the most suspicious sentence in the English language.”

“I know.”

“What does the bracelet mean?”

“I don’t know.”

“What does the symbol mean?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why is your family hiding things?”

“I don’t know.”

She leaned back.

“You really don’t know anything.”

“I’m beginning to feel attacked.”

“You should.”

I laughed.

For a moment, the tension disappeared.

Then I felt it.

That strange sensation.

Someone watching me.

My smile faded.

I slowly turned my head.

Across the restaurant, near the entrance, stood a man.

Tall.

Dark coat.

Still.

He wasn’t looking at anyone else.

He was looking directly at me.

My stomach tightened.

I knew him.

Not personally.

But I had seen him before.

On campus.

Across the street.

Watching me.

I blinked.

The man was gone.

I sat there for a second.

Amara noticed.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

She followed my gaze.

“Jewel?”

I looked toward the entrance again.

People moved in and out.

No dark coat.

No strange man.

Nothing.

“I thought I saw someone.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know.”

She frowned.

“You’re scaring me.”

“I’m not trying to.”

“Then stop looking like you’re about to tell me you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I haven’t seen a ghost.”

“That’s exactly what someone who has seen a ghost would say.”

I laughed weakly.

“Maybe I’m just tired.”

Amara studied me.

Then she reached across the table and squeezed my hand.

“Whatever is going on, you can tell me.”

I smiled.

“I know.”

And I meant it.

༺🖤༻

By the time I got home, it was almost midnight.

The house was quiet.

Too quiet.

I slipped off my boots near the door and tiptoed toward the staircase.

Halfway up, I stopped.

The symbol beneath the staircase seemed darker than before.

I stared at it.

My bracelet suddenly felt warm.

I looked down.

The moon charm was glowing.

Not brightly.

Just enough to make my heart stop.

“What the—”

The light disappeared.

I blinked.

Nothing.

I touched the charm.

Cold.

Completely normal.

“Okay,” I whispered. “I’m officially tired.”

I hurried upstairs.

I wasn’t going to think about it.

I wasn’t going to investigate.

I wasn’t going to search the internet again.

I wasn’t going to—

I stopped beside my bedroom door.

There was a sound inside.

A soft scratching.

I frowned.

I slowly pushed the door open.

Nothing.

My room was exactly how I had left it.

I stepped inside.

The scratching stopped.

I looked around.

“Hello?”

Silence.

I closed the door behind me.

Then I noticed my notebook.

It was open on my desk.

I frowned.

I always closed it.

I walked over.

A page had been turned.

There was writing on it.

My writing.

I stared at the sentence.

Don’t go into the forest.

My stomach dropped.

I touched the page.

I hadn’t written that.

At least…

I didn’t remember writing it.

I flipped through the previous pages.

Normal things.

Class notes.

Random thoughts.

A terrible paragraph I’d written at three in the morning and immediately regretted.

Nothing strange.

I looked back at the warning.

My handwriting.

My ink.

My notebook.

But I had no memory of writing it.

I swallowed.

“This is fine.”

It wasn’t.

I closed the notebook.

Then opened it again.

The sentence was still there.

I closed it harder.

“Definitely fine.”

I changed into my pajamas and climbed into bed.

For the first time in twenty-one years, I wished my mother had actually told me what was going on.

Unfortunately, mothers had an irritating habit of assuming their children could survive on vague warnings and emotional hugs.

I pulled the blanket over myself.

Tomorrow, I decided, I would ask questions.

Real questions.

No avoiding.

No changing the subject.

No not tonight.

I wanted answers.

And I was going to get them.

Eventually, sleep took me.

And then I dreamed.

I was standing in a forest.

Not a normal forest.

The trees were impossibly tall, their branches twisting together above me.

There was no moon.

No stars.

Only darkness.

I looked down.

I wasn’t wearing shoes.

Cold earth pressed beneath my feet.

I turned around.

“Hello?”

My voice disappeared into the trees.

Then I heard footsteps.

Slow.

Measured.

Coming closer.

I backed away.

“Who’s there?”

A figure stepped between the trees.

A man.

Tall.

Broad shoulders.

Dark clothes.

His face remained hidden beneath the shadows.

But I knew him.

The same man.

The one from campus.

The one from the restaurant.

The one I couldn’t remember meeting.

He stopped several feet away.

For some reason, I wasn’t afraid.

I was angry.

“Why do you keep following me?”

He didn’t answer.

I crossed my arms.

“I’m serious.”

Still nothing.

“Do you have a hobby?”

His head tilted slightly.

I frowned.

“Because stalking people is a weird one.”

He finally spoke.

His voice was deep.

Calm.

Almost familiar.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

I looked around.

“Where?”

He took one step toward me.

“The forest.”

I glanced at the trees.

Then back at him.

“That’s interesting because I didn’t exactly drive here.”

Something shifted behind him.

A black flower grew from the ground.

Then another.

Then dozens.

They spread across the forest floor like spilled ink.

My breath caught.

The man looked at the flowers.

Then back at me.

“You have no idea what you are.”

I frowned.

“What does that mean?”

He stepped closer.

“You’ll remember.”

“Remember what?”

He reached toward me.

I stepped back.

The ground disappeared beneath my feet.

I screamed—

And woke up.

I sat upright in bed, breathing heavily.

My room was dark.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

I looked around.

No forest.

No man.

No black flowers.

Just my bedroom.

I laughed nervously.

“Okay.”

I rubbed my face.

“Definitely need therapy.”

I reached for the lamp.

Then froze.

Something was lying on my pillow.

A single black petal.

I stared at it.

I didn’t touch it.

I didn’t breathe.

For several seconds, I simply watched it.

Then the bracelet around my wrist became warm again.

And somewhere downstairs— a clock stopped ticking.

12:21.