Chapter 4 - The Transfer of the Curse
For several terrifying seconds, time seemed to stop completely. David remained frozen on one knee, his hand suspended in mid-air, his eyes fixed on the small, folded square of paper lying in his daughter's trembling palms. The world around him faded into a gray, distant blur; the ambient sounds of the chapel, the birds in the canopy, and his own breathing vanished, replaced by a deafening roar of static in his ears. The note looked entirely unremarkable, yet it radiated an aura of pure, malice-filled energy. It was a dirty intrusion into the sterile, hyper-curated perfection of his wedding day. Every cell in his body screamed at him not to touch it, to grab Lily and run, to burn the paper before its contents could poison the air. But his fingers moved on their own, stiff and cold, reaching forward with agonizing slowness. The moment his fingertips brushed against the dry, rough paper, a violent jolt of fear shot up his forearm, making his heart hammer wildly against his ribs. He pinched the paper and lifted it from Lily’s hands. As soon as the physical contact was broken, Lily let out a shuddering, breathless gasp, as if a physical monster had released its grip on her small chest, though the silent tears continued to stream down her face. David remained kneeling, the note sitting in his open palm. It felt unnaturally heavy, anchored by a dark, terrible gravity that threatened to pull him straight down into the dirt.
