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“Yeah.”

She outstretched her palm and walked toward him. “Give me the keys, Bradley.”

Slowly he offered her the keys. She placed her hand over his. Sparks seemed to fly in every direction. The keys were in her grasp, ready to be pulled free, when she hesitated.

“You’re not afraid, are you?” she asked.

“Afraid?”

“Of my mother’s warning. That it isn’t safe. That you’re better off without me.”

Bradley dropped his hand and left the keys dangling in her grip.

“Not for a single second. Where are we going?”

Devra pressed the fob and smiled. The van chirped to life as the doors unlocked.

“They say the truth shall set you free,” she said. “So let’s go learn the truth.”

DEVRA

She knew it was a risk to see David in person this close to Christmas. Who she really wanted to see was her father, to ask him face to face if he really thought this whole time that she was his cursed child, a liability, a burden. But this courage growing inside her required baby steps. And with her dad’s poor health, it felt safer to ask her brother instead. He might have the answers she was looking for, and he could handle a few more stubbed toes.

Devra parked the van outside his townhouse, with its minimalist grey exterior and telltale lack of festive decor. She exited the vehicle without requiring a deep breath and marched through the freshly fallen snow, driven forward by her resolve. She deserved to know the truth, even if it wasn’t a truth she wanted to hear. She needed all the information so they could find a way to end this thing once and for all.

She strode up to the front steps, Bradley trailing close behind. One step. Two steps. Her foot crashed down through a broken board. “Not now, damn it,” she muttered, slivers of wood grabbing her boot as she tried to wriggle it loose.

“Need some he—?”

Before he could finish, she yanked herself free and stumbled up the final step. She took a second to right herself, then knocked firmly on the door. Three evenly spaced solid beats. It was a borrowed pattern, a borrowed confidence, one she hoped might become her own some day, the way practice created muscle memory.

“Hello?” David opened the door. His eyes, a mirror of her own in colour, betrayed his obvious surprise.

“Hello, David. I had an interesting conversation with our mother yesterday.”

“Devra.” David took a slight step back, not exactly how her mother had but similar enough to stir up the same emotions. “What are you doing here?”

She pushed inside, acutely aware she hadn’t been invited in. “I think we need to talk.”

“What’s going on? And who are you?” he asked as Bradley nudged inside too. “What is this, Devra? You never come over in December, and you certainly never bring a man with you.”

“I’m Bradley. Bradley Mann.” Bradley stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” Devra spun around and stared intently at her brother from the centre of his living room. “I saw our mother yesterday. Our mother. And she told me some fairly distressing things. About me. About the curse.”

“Our mother?” David shook his head, still not closing the front door behind them. “Okay, this sounds important, really important. We should definitely talk about this, but right now is not the best time. You shouldn’t be here, Devra. You need to go.”

“Oh my god, it’s true. You’re afraid of me.”

“Afraid? What? No, that’s not it.” He shoved a hand through his shaggy pitch-black hair, giving it a messy, rock-star appearance. “It’s just that…”

He didn’t need to finish his sentence, because that was when Devra spotted the man pressed into the far corner, trying to be invisible.

“Papa?”

Her father and brother, together in December, tea set out on the coffee table for a casual visit, unafraid of the curse. But clearly afraid of her.

“So, it’s true. You all think I’m the problem. Only me.”