**An Unforgettable Celebration: The Return of the Restaurant**
Emily was heading home with her husband, James, after celebrating her birthday at a lovely restaurant in London. The evening had been splendidpacked with relatives, coworkers, and friends. Many were strangers to Emily, but if James had invited them, she trusted his judgment.
Emily wasnt the type to question her husbands choices. She hated arguments and found it easier to agree than to insist she was right.
«Emily, do you have the flat keys handy? Could you grab them?»
She rummaged through her handbag, searching for the keys, when a sharp pain shot through her finger. She jerked her hand back, sending her bag tumbling to the pavement.
«Whats wrong?» James asked.
«Something pricked me.»
«With the mess in that bag, Im not surprised.»
Emily didnt argue. She picked up her bag, carefully retrieved the keys, and they stepped inside. Already, shed brushed off the incidentshe was exhausted, her feet ached, and all she wanted was a hot shower and bed.
The next morning, she woke to a throbbing pain in her finger, now red and swollen. Remembering the night before, she emptied her bag and found a large, rusted needle buried at the bottom.
«What on earth?»
She had no idea how it got there. Disgusted, she tossed it away, then cleaned the wound with antiseptic and bandaged it. By midday, fever had set in. She called James.
«James, I dont know whats wrong. I feel dreadfulfever, headache, my whole body aches. I found a rusted needle in my bag.»
«You should see a doctor. It could be tetanus or worse.»
«Dont fuss. Ive cleaned it. Ill be fine.»
But hour by hour, she worsened. Barely finishing work, she hailed a cab home and collapsed on the sofa, sinking into a deep sleep.
She dreamt of her grandmother, Margaret, whod passed when Emily was small. Though she barely remembered her face, she knew it was herbent with age but radiating warmth. Margaret led her through a meadow, pointing out herbs for a tea to cleanse the darkness devouring her. «Someone wishes you harm,» she warned. «But to fight them, you must survive. Time is short.»
Emily woke drenched in cold sweat. Only minutes had passed. The door clickedJames was home. He took one look at her and paled.
«Good God, look at yourself!»
In the mirror, the vibrant woman from yesterday was gone. A hollow-eyed stranger stared back, hair tangled, face drained.
«Whats happening to me?»
Then she remembered the dream. «I saw Gran. She told me what to do»
«Emily, get dressed. Were going to hospital.»
«No. She said doctors cant help me.»
The argument spiralled. James called her mad for trusting a dream. He even tried dragging her out, gripping her arm.
«If you wont go willingly, Ill make you.»
She wrenched free, stumbled, and smacked into the wall. Furious, James snatched her bag, slammed the door, and left. Weakly, Emily texted her boss, begging sick leave.
James returned near midnight, apologising, but Emily only whispered, «Take me to Grans village tomorrow.»
By morning, she looked corpse-like. James pleaded, «Dont be daft. Lets go to hospital. I cant lose you.»
But they drove to the villagesomewhere Emily hadnt visited since her parents sold Margarets cottage. Half-asleep, she jolted awake as they neared. «There.»
Staggering from the car, she collapsed onto the grass but knew she was where Margaret had directed. She gathered the herbs, and they returned home. James brewed the tea as instructed. With each sip, strength trickled back.
Later, she saw black urine in the toilet. Instead of panic, she whispered, «The darkness is leaving»
That night, Margaret returned in her dreams. The rusted needle had been a curse, she explained. The tea was a temporary fix. Emily had to uncover the culprit and return their malice. «James is involved somehow,» Margaret confessed. «Had you kept the needle, Id know more. Heres what you must do»
Buy a box of needles. Recite over the largest: *»Spirits of night, before you rest, hear me, ghosts of darkness, proclaim the truth. Surround me, point the way, help me find my foe»* Then place it in Jamess bag. Whoever harmed her would prick themselves, revealing their identity.
At dawn, though frail, Emily felt steadier. James stayed home, fretting, until she insisted on grocery shopping alone.
«Emily, you can barely stand. Let me come.»
«Just make me soup. Im starving after this bug.»
That night, she slipped the needle into Jamess briefcase. As they lay in bed, he asked, «Sure youll be alright? Should I stay?»
«Ill manage.»
By evening, she greeted him anxiously. «How was your day?»
«Fine. Why?»
Just as doubt crept in, he added, «Funny thingIrina from accounting tried helping me with my keys today. Reached into my bag and pricked herself on a needle. She was livid.»
«Whats between you and Irina?»
«Emily, dont. I love you. Irinas just a colleague.»
«Was she at my birthday dinner?»
«Yes, but»
Then it clicked. The rusted needle in her bag wasnt an accident.
As James made dinner, Emily slept. Margaret returned, explaining how to reflect Irinas malice. «Shell stop at nothing to have James.»
Emily obeyed. Days later, James mentioned Irina was on medical leave»Doctors cant figure out whats wrong.»
That weekend, Emily visited Margarets grave in the village churchyard, a place she hadnt seen since the funeral. Clearing weeds, she laid down flowers.
«Sorry I stayed away, Gran. I thought once a year was enough. But without you, Id be gone.»
A gentle squeeze touched her shoulders. Turning, she saw no onejust a soft breeze carrying the scent of lavender.
*Lesson learned: Never dismiss the whispers of those whove left us. Sometimes, the dead guard us better than the living. She knelt by the grave, tears mingling with the rain beginning to fall. Ill come back sooner next time, she whispered.
That evening, James found her sorting through old photo albums, her colour nearly restored. He sat beside her, hesitant. Ive asked for a transferanother office. A fresh start.
She looked at him, not with suspicion, but sorrow. We both needed saving, didnt we?
He didnt answer, but took her hand. And for the first time in weeks, she let him hold it.
