Emma Clarke was returning home with her husband James after a lively birthday dinner at a trendy restaurant in central London. The evening had gone smoothly: a crowd of friends, relatives and colleagues, many of whom Emma was meeting for the first time, but James had invited them, so it must have been worth it.
Emma never liked to argue with James; she avoided quarrels and preferred to go along with his decisions rather than prove herself right.
Emma, do you have the keys? Could you get them for me? James asked.
She rummaged through her handbag, searching for the keys. Suddenly a sharp pain made her drop the bag onto the floor.
What happened? James asked.
Ive scratched myself with something.
The inside of that bag is a maze, no wonder you got hurt, he joked.
Emma didnt argue. She lifted the bag, gently extracted the keys, and they went inside. The sting in her hand faded from memory as fatigue settled over her. All she could think of was a hot shower and a soft bed. By morning her wrist throbbed, her finger swollen and red. Remembering the previous nights incident, she opened the bag again and, after a careful search, found a large, rusted needle at the bottom.
What on earth is this? she muttered, unable to understand how it got there. She tossed the needle into the waste bin, fetched a firstaid kit and disinfected the wound. After dressing it she headed to work, but by noon her temperature began to climb.
She called James: James, Im not sure what to do. I think I caught something nasty yesterday. I have a fever, my head hurts, my whole body aches. I found a big rusted needle in my bag thats what I pricked myself with.
Maybe you should see a doctor; it could be tetanus or an infection, James replied.
Dont overreact. Ive cleaned the wound; itll be fine, Emma said.
Hour by hour her condition worsened. Barely making it through the workday, she ordered a taxi home, knowing the bus would be too exhausting. She collapsed onto the sofa and fell asleep.
In her dream her late grandmother Margaret appeared, though Emma barely remembered her face. Margaret was bent and frail, the sort of figure that could frighten anyone, yet Emma felt she was there to help.
Grandmother led her through a field, pointing out herbs to gather, insisting she brew a tea and drink it to cleanse her body. She warned that someone wanted to harm Emma, and that to defeat that person she must survive. Time was short.
Emma woke drenched in sweat. It seemed she had slept long, but a glance at the clock showed only a few minutes had passed. The front door slammedJames had returned. She slipped off the couch and went to the hallway. Seeing her, James gasped.
Whats happened to you? Look at yourself in the mirror.
Emma approached the mirror. Yesterday she had seen a bright, smiling face; now her hair hung in clumps, dark circles stained her eyes, her skin was ashen and her gaze empty.
What is this? she whispered.
She recalled the dream and told James, I saw Grandma in a dream. She told me what to do
Emma, get dressed. Were going to the hospital, James urged.
No, Grandma said the doctors wont help, Emma replied.
A fierce argument erupted. James called her mad, accusing her of being delirious with fever. For the first time they truly clashed. James tried to force his way to the car, grabbed her wrist and attempted to pull her out of the house.
If you wont go willingly, Ill make you, he said.
Emma broke free, lost her balance and struck her head on a cabinet corner. Enraged, James snatched his bag, slammed the door and stormed out. Emma managed only to send a quick message to her boss that she was ill and would need a few days off.
James came back after midnight, apologising profusely, but Emma said simply, Take me to the village where my grandmother lived tomorrow.
The next morning Emma looked more like a living corpse than a healthy woman. James kept pleading, Emma, dont be foolish. Lets go to the hospital. I cant lose you.
They drove to the remote village Emma remembered only by name. She hadnt been there since her parents sold her grandmothers cottage after Margarets death. The whole way she slept, only awakening as they neared the outskirts.
This is it, Emma announced as the car stopped.
She stepped out, collapsed onto the grass, and knew she was exactly where her grandmother had guided her in the dream. She collected the herbs she needed, and James prepared the brew as she instructed. She sipped it slowly, feeling her strength return with each swallow.
When she rose to use the bathroom, she noticed her urine was dark, almost black. Rather than panic, she recalled Margarets words, Darkness will pass
That night Margaret appeared again, smiling, then spoke: The rusted needle placed a curse on you. My tea will give you strength, but only briefly. You must find the one who did this and return his ill will. I cant see who it is, but it involves your husband. Had you not thrown away the needle, I could have told you more.
Do it differently, Margaret advised. Buy a pack of needles; on the largest, say, Spirits of the night, hear me! Help reveal the truth and find my enemy Place that needle in your husbands bag. The person who cast the curse will prick themselves on it, and we will learn their name and be able to return their evil.
The vision faded like mist.
Emma awoke still feeling weak, yet convinced she would recover. She knew Margaret would aid her. James decided to stay home to care for her, but Emma insisted on going to the shop alone.
Emma, youre barely on your feet. Let me come with you, James said.
No, Im starving after this illness. Make some soup, please, she replied.
She followed Margarets instructions. That evening the enchanted needle lay in Jamess bag. Before bedtime she asked him, Are you sure youll manage on your own? Should I stay with you?
Ill be fine, he answered.
Emma improved, but she sensed the lingering evil. By the third day the tea acted like an antidote, weakening the malevolent force. She waited anxiously for Jamess return from work. When he entered, she asked, How was your day?
It was fine, why do you ask? he replied.
She thought her plan had failed, but James added, You know, today Ivy Harper from the next department tried to help me. She reached for the keys to my desk, slipped a needle into her bag and hurt herself. How did a needle end up in my bag? She glared at me, I thought she might kill me with a stare.
Whos this Ivy? Emma asked.
Only you matter to me, Emma. Youre the one I love.
Was she at the birthday dinner? Emma probed.
Yes, shes just a friendly colleague.
The pieces fell into place. Emma finally understood how the old needle had gotten into her bag. James went to the kitchen where dinner awaited. That same night Margaret showed Emma how to return the curse to Ivy. She explained that Ivy wanted to eliminate her rival to take Emmas place beside James. If she failed, she would likely resort to magic again. The woman would stop at nothing.
Emma acted on Margarets advice. Soon James reported that Ivy had taken sick leave, claiming she was gravely ill and doctors were helpless.
Emma asked James to drive her to the village for the weekend, to the cemetery where her grandmother rested, a place she hadnt visited since the funeral. She bought a bouquet, wore gloves, and cleared away the overgrown grass. Finding Margarets grave was hard, but when she reached it she saw a photograph on the headstone. It was her grandmother, the very spirit who had guided her in dreams and saved her from death. Emma tidied the grave, placed fresh flowers in a vase of water, sat on a bench and spoke:
Grandma, Im sorry I didnt come sooner. I thought a yearly visit was enough. I was wrong. Ill come more often. Without you, I might not be here now.
She felt a warm pressure on her shoulders, as if Margarets hand rested there. She turned, but only a gentle breeze brushed her cheek.
The experience taught Emma that listening to intuition, honoring the wisdom of those who came before, and confronting hidden threats with courage can turn even the darkest curses into lessons of resilience. The true healing lay not just in herbal tea, but in the willingness to face the truth and protect the love that mattered most.
