7
When I returned home, my parents were back. I explained my reasons for wanting to end the engagement with Ethan. After some thought, they agreed.
“We arranged the marriage because you two grew up together and the Sterlings are a good family,” my father said. “But if our Lillian is unhappy, then we won’t force it. There are plenty of talented young men in this city. We don’t need to hang ourselves on the Sterling family tree.”
My mother, never one to waste time, immediately took me to the Sterling residence.
Mrs. Sterling was shocked. “Lillian, dear,” she said, taking my hands, “did that stupid boy of mine do someth-
ing to hurt you?”
I shook my head, but before I could speak, Ethan’s older brother, Marcus, spoke up dryly. “Let them break it
off. Ethan doesn’t deserve Lillian anyway. He’s a terrible student and a womanizer. I would have called it off
years ago.”
Mrs. Sterling, thinking of her wayward son, couldn’t argue. She sighed and agreed. She gave me a hug. “This doesn’t change anything between our families, dear. You’ll always be my goddaughter.”
While my father discussed business with Mr. Sterling and Marcus, Ethan was nowhere to be seen. He was
clearly hiding.
When we got home, Willow was on the sofa, laughing with Liam.
My father’s brow darkened. “You’re a high school senior. What are you doing sitting around? Get upstairs and study,” he barked at my brother. Liam scurried away.
My mother glared at Willow, but I stopped her. “Mom, you go rest. Let me have a word with her.” She gave me a questioning look, but I met it with a steady gaze, and she went upstairs.
I looked at the fresh love bites on Willow’s neck. “Ethan and I broke off the engagement. I hope you’re happy.
A smug look crossed her face. “It was bound to happen. Because I’m pregnant with his child.”
I was beyond shocked at her getting pregnant at eighteen. “Then pack your bags and get out of my house. The Vances don’t harbor shameless women.”
I turned to leave, but she grabbed my arm, her eyes glinting with malice. “I’m going to marry Ethan, and then I
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Chapter 2
‘m coming back for this house and everything in it. Do you know why? Because your brother will do anything I say.”
I shook her off and went to my room, my mind racing.
I had been operating under the assumption that this world was a “fixed” Mary Sue novel. But the System voice had said it was giving “everyone” their free will back. The reactions of my parents and classmates pro- ved that was true.
Only Liam and Ethan remained under Willow’s spell.
Were they not part of “everyone“? Or had Willow done something to ensure their loyalty?
My eyes narrowed. I went back downstairs.
On the sofa where Willow had been sitting, a small, woven red string glinted in the moonlight.
My eyes widened. Of course. That’s why Liam was so devoted to her.
At 3 AM, the Vance mansion was ablaze with light.
I led my parents and our security team into the basement. We found Willow in the middle of a ritual. As she
was restrained, a piece of paper fell from her pocket.
I picked it up. On it were the birth dates and times of my parents and me.
A search of the room revealed three newly made cotton dolls and a set of needles, a small wooden puppet carved with my brother’s birthdate, and a pile of strangely fragrant spices.
My mother’s hands trembled with rage. “I knew it! I knew there was a reason my son would bring a no–name tramp into this house! You put a curse on him!”
I said nothing. I took a knife, and without hesitation, I sliced open Willow’s palm, letting her blood spurt onto the dolls and the puppet. She stared at me with pure hatred. When they were soaked through, I tossed them
into a metal basin and set them on fire.
I had seen things like this once, on an art trip to a remote village in Louisiana. The old women there practic- ed a form of folk magic. They called it a dangerous and forbidden art, one that could control a person’s mind with just a few simple items. When I tried to learn more, a young girl had stopped her grandmother. “Grand- mère, you know we’re not supposed to talk about this!”
Later that night, driven by curiosity, I had gone to the old woman’s house. Seeing my sincerity, she had relen- ted. “This magic brings darkness upon the soul,” she’d warned. “But I can teach you how to break it.” She had explained the counter–curse in detail. As I was leaving, she’d called after me. “If you ever face someone who uses this magic, remember this: take a blade to the practitioner’s brow and remove their focal point, a small talisman that channels their power. They will be powerless for the rest of their days.”
Seeing me approach with the knife, Willow began to scream. “What are you doing? What are you doing!”
Before she could scream again, I made a swift, clean incision and plucked the focal point from between her
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Chapter 2
eyebrows.
Willow collapsed, unconscious.
20.17
“Clean up this mess,” my father ordered, his face grim. “Bandage her wound. In the morning, throw her out.”
I washed my hands and took the focal point upstairs. Our family had always kept an altar to ensure good fortune in our business dealings. I finally understood why the incense had refused to burn properly ever since Willow arrived. She had been stealing our family’s luck.
I lit a fresh stick of incense, and in its fragrant smoke, I ignited the focal point, placing the ashes in the burn- er on the altar. The smoke curled upwards, forming the shape of a lotus.
I let out a long breath. The curse was broken. Now, all I had to do was wait for my brother to wake up.
