The Guardian of the Curse

et, a curse: our con

se silence, living as a ja

married me only because her superstitious grandfathe

e for my devout mother, who j

a pregnant Nicole, baked her a p

cole' s lover, intercepted the pie,

roat failed me as he took a bite, the

ling, accusatory finger at my mot

ken to a state nursing home with a dark reputat

he scoffed, revealed my life was a charade based on a fort

w condemnation tore from my throat: "May you lose wha

bury, was now loose, and it was o