Ramona did. Zara’s expression was serious, focused, completely present.
“You are not broken,” Zara said, each word deliberate. “You never were. Someone did something terrible to you, and then people who should have protected you kept that secret for decades. That’s unconscionable. That’s—” She stopped. “I don’t have words for how angry that makes me.”
Ramona sniffled.
“But none of that — none of it — means you’re broken.” Zara’s hand tightened on hers. “It means you were hurt. By people who should have known better, and you survived anyway. You learned to compensate. You built a life despite everything working against you. That’s not weakness. That’s—” Zara paused. “That’s remarkable.”
Ramona’s eyes were burning. “I don’t feel remarkable. I feel?—”
“Betrayed.”
“Yes.”
“Angry.”
Ramona nodded.
“Scared about what comes next.”
“Yes.” Ramona’s voice broke. “I don’t know who I am without this. The struggling. The failing. The…” She gestured helplessly. “All of it. That’s been my entire identity. The disaster witch. The one who can’t get it right. And if that was never real, if that was just a curse someone put on me, then who am I?”
“You’re Ramona,” Zara said simply. “You’re the woman who summoned a demon by accident and then convinced her to help instead of making demands. You’re the person who translated medieval grimoires for fun. Who works a shitty job to make rent. Who has friends who would commit felonies for her without hesitation. Who just broke into her former workplace to steal the knowledge she needed.”
“That’s all just circumstances.”
“No. That’syou.” Zara moved closer, until their shoulders were touching. “The curse didn’t make you kind. It didn’t make you smart. It didn’t make you brave enough to keep trying even when everything told you to give up. That was all you. Despite everything working against you.”
Ramona wanted to believe her. Wanted to accept that there was something worthwhile underneath the curse, underneath the decades of self-hatred. “What if… what if we break the curse and nothing changes? Curse broken, and I’m still the same mess of a person. What if this is just who I am, curse or no curse?” Ramona’s voice dropped to a whisper.
“Then you’ll be you,” Zara said it like it was simple. Like it was obvious. “Ramona, I’m not attracted who youcouldbe. I’m attracted to who you are, right now. The way you think. The way you translate languages dead for centuries just because you find them beautiful and interesting. The way you care about people.The way you keep trying even when everything is working against you.”
“That’s just?—”
“That’syou,” Zara interrupted. “Not the curse. Not your magic.You. And breaking this curse isn’t going to change that. It’s just going to give you back what was taken from you.”
Ramona felt tears threatening. “I don’t know how to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Believe that I might actually be good at something. Powerful. Worth…” She couldn’t finish.
“Worth loving?” Zara supplied gently.
“Yeah.”
“Then let me believe it for both of us.” Zara’s hand came up to cup Ramona’s face. “Until you can believe it yourself.”
A tear slipped down Ramona’s cheek. Then another.
“I’m so tired,” she whispered. “Of being angry. Of being scared. Of not knowing who I am.”
“I know.”
“I want to break this curse and have all the answers and know exactly what comes next.”
“That’s probably not how it works,” Zara said with a small smile. “Breaking the curse is just the beginning. You’ll still have to figure out who you are. What you want. What kind of magic feels right to you. It’s not going to be instant clarity. And you can do that all.”
“You make it sound manageable.”
