"You... weaponize superstition?" Piper asked.
"I am Russian grandmother. That is literally my job." She arched a perfectly drawn-on brow as if daring Piper to argue. "Also, fear is more effective than inspirational quotes. Write that down."
Piper stared, speechless. Somewhere between confusion and awe.
Babushka leaned in close, tapping her ring-heavy fingers against the counter. "There is no curse. There is only the story you tell yourself to explain vhy things fall apart. You vant to believe you break things because then you don't have to build anything new. You get to keep control. Hmm?"
Piper felt her stomach dip, the words slicing through her practiced self-deprecation like buttercream. Sharp, but with enough sweetness to hit deep.
"But you say happy tears before the ceremony mean sad tears after," she said, reaching for anything that could still be real.
At that, Babushka leaned back with a snort and dramatic hand to her chest. "Oh, no—that one's real. Always has been. Never tempt fate, Piper."
Piper licked her lips. Glanced to Aspen then Brek.
Both shrugged.
"Don't look at me like that," Babushka said, sipping from her flask. "Even a curse has its rules. Now, you tell Aspen you vant your job and big promotion." Babushka pointed to Aspen. "You give it back, yes?"
Aspen nodded. "Yes."
Babushka grabbed a napkin and spit on the edge, then she sprinkled some salt there and reached over the bar to press the result against Piper's forehead.
Piper was entirely too shocked to say anything.
"The curse is now gone," Babushka announced. "I have lifted any that remains."
"You said it wasn't real to begin with?" Piper asked.
"And now you believe it, yes?" Babushka nodded. "You go to your office and you vait for Zachary. He vill be there soon."
Piper frowned. "How do you?—"
"I know things because I know them." Babushka waved Piper's almost-question away.
"She does, actually," Aspen agreed. "Right, Brek?"
"I know better than to argue about anything," he said with a smirk.
Then he gave Piper a coffee to-go for the road.
"Can't have my sister's best employee wandering the streets caffeine-deprived," he said.
And then she was at Montgomery Events. Outside on the steps, anyway.
The concrete seeped cold through her slacks as Piper sat with her knees drawn up to her chest. Her hair whipped across her face in the breeze, tangling around her collar, but she couldn't be bothered to tuck it back.
She stared at the flowers in the decorative urns flanking the building entrance. They weren't blooming now—past their season, brown-edged and drooping.
Totally apt.
Piper wasn't really spiraling anymore. She didn't know what she believed, but it was good to know Drake and Anna were fine.
But now that her emotional tornado had passed, it left behind that eerie stillness that comes after destruction.
She was numb now. Numb and unsure what she was going to do next. The curse theory had felt so logical hours ago. Now it felt like a convenient excuse for avoidance.
The wind bit harder, tugging at the hem of her coat, nosing under her collar. Her hands were tucked beneath her thighs for warmth. This moment, this limbo between emotional collapse and supposed resolution, gnawed at her.
