Chapter 3

When I opened my eyes, Leonard was sitting by my bed.

The moment he saw I was awake, he pulled me into a crushing hug.

"Gracie, I'm so sorry," he whispered into my hair. "What happened to your mother was a tragic accident."

I shoved him away, turning my face to the wall.

He pulled out the last nail and held it before my eyes like a holy relic. "Gracie," he pleaded. "My last wish. Can you please just forget how she died?"

I took the nail. And with all the strength I had left, I drove the point into my own palm.

My mother's funeral was a grand affair. Leonard stood by my side, his eyes red-rimmed, greeting the endless stream of guests. To the world, he was the perfect, grieving husband.

And then Sylvia appeared at the cemetery.

She fell to her knees before me, one hand clutching her belly.

"Grace, I'm so, so sorry about your mother," she sobbed, "but please, I'm begging you, leave my baby alone."

Leonard rushed to her side, his hand hovering protectively over her belly. "What's wrong? What's wrong with the baby?"

Tears streamed down her perfect face. "I've been in pain for days, and there's been blood. The doctors can't find a reason."

She took a shaky breath. "I went to the church to pray for our child, and the priest said someone cursed the baby, using their own blood mixed with the ashes from a family grave."

A priest in a black robe stepped out from behind her and pointed a dramatic finger at my mother's urn. "It comes from there. The curse is tied to that urn."

Leonard's gentle words to Sylvia were a stark contrast to the sheer disgust in his eyes as he turned to me.

"Are you so twisted that you harm an unborn child?" he hissed.

"I used to feel guilty about your mom's death, but now, I see it was just karma for your own viciousness."

I curled my fingers, the sharp pain in my palm keeping me from trembling.

"Leonard," I explained. "I will say this only once. I did not do this."

Sylvia piped up, letting out a fragile whisper. "But if you weren't letting blood for a curse, why is your palm injured, Grace?"

Every eye in the small crowd darted to my hand, their gazes like nails in my coffin.

With a livid face, Leonard turned to the priest. "How do we break it?"

The priest closed his eyes with a pained expression.

"The ashes must be mixed with the blood of a dog and scattered upon this very ground. Only then can the curse be broken."

Leonard gestured to his bodyguards.

I threw myself in front of the urn, wrapping my arms around it. "Leonard, the wound is from the nail you gave me! It has nothing to do with this!"

My voice rose, shrill with desperation. "My mother is gone! Are you really going to desecrate her memory over this madness?"

Leonard faltered for a second. Sylvia let out a pained cry, clutching her belly. "Lenny, what if I was wrong about her?"

She whimpered. "I'm sorry. I should have just endured it. The baby would have been fine, right?

"Oh, it hurts. It hurts so much..."

Leonard's gaze hardened. "Do it."

The bodyguards swarmed forward, pinning my arms to hold me fast.

Then they upended a large bucket, and a torrent of foul-smelling dog's blood poured into my mother's ashes.

The disgusting mixture was then scooped up and scattered across the damp earth, drop by agonizing drop.

Through my tears, I saw Sylvia shoot me a look of pure triumph before turning to Leonard.

She exclaimed sweetly, "It doesn't hurt anymore, Lenny! You saved our baby!"

She giggled. "You get all the points today."

I collapsed onto the ground, my fingers scrabbling in the mud, trying to gather what I could, but all I came away with was a handful of bloody filth.

Leonard looked down at me with a flicker of pity. "I know you're not yourself after losing your mother. I won't hold this against you, now that the baby is safe.

"You'll still be in charge of the wedding.

"Gracie, I hope planning a celebration of love will help you let go of all this pointless hatred in your heart."

As he spoke, Sylvia leaned down, pretending to offer me a tissue. "You really are pathetic, old hag," she whispered with venom. "So easy to break."

Then she straightened up, wearing a mask of angelic innocence.

"I'm counting on you to make me a beautiful bride, Grace!"

My fingers dug into the wet earth, blood and soil mingling under my nails.

I would save every ounce of hate, every tear, and every betrayal. And I would serve it back to them on their wedding day.

I began to plan the wedding with meticulous precision.

I was the butt of every joke. They were all saying I should be nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize. After all, who else is so "big-hearted" as to play wedding planner for their husband and the other woman?

I said nothing, only smiling as I made the plans more and more absurdly opulent.

On the day of the wedding, I stood on the altar myself, dressed in a breathtaking couture gown.

Sylvia stared, sneering, "I see. All this hard work was just a prelude to a little bride-switching drama?

"Face it, old hag. Lenny is disgusted by you. You will never have a wedding of your own."

Just then, Leonard began his walk down the aisle. Instantly, Sylvia clutched her belly and crumpled to the ground.

She cried, her voice trembling with false sincerity, "Grace, if you want this wedding so badly, just take it.

"Just please, don't hurt my baby! I promise I'll disappear with the baby. We'll never bother you again!"

Leonard stormed forward and shoved me hard, roaring, "Grace! Is your hatred for them so great you can't even let them be?

"I told you I would give you an even bigger wedding later! What more could you possibly want?"

I stumbled back a few steps. "That won't be necessary. My husband says today's wedding is perfect."

Leonard scoffed, "I'm standing right here, Gracie. Why don't you tell me which husband you're talking about?"

A smooth voice cut in from behind me. "That would be her legally recognized husband. Me."