Grandma's bed had been moved to the center of the room. Lying on it was a figure soaked in blood. Barely recognizable as human.

I crept closer. The person was wearing Grandma's clothes.

My mouth fell open. My heart slammed against my ribs like a trapped bird. My gaze darted around the room, searching for her familiar silhouette.

"Where is Grandma?" My voice came out thin. Childish. "I'm scared. Grandma? Grandma!"

I shouted her name, wandering aimlessly through the crowd of mourning neighbors.

Zachary Logan stepped in front of me, blocking my view of the bed. He placed a trembling hand on my head. "Your grandma is gone, child." His Adam's apple bobbed. "That... that is your grandma lying there."

He swallowed hard. "Stop looking. Go outside. You don't want to have nightmares."

A buzzing sound filled my ears. The blood in my veins turned to ice. Even at seven, living in this house had taught me the darkness of the world. I knew what "dead" meant.

The realization hit like a physical blow.

I burst into tears and threw myself toward the bed. "Grandma, what's wrong? Wake up! Don't scare me! Grandma!"

I reached out, desperate to touch her, to shake her awake. But my father intercepted me. Hatred blazed in his eyes as his boot connected with my stomach, sending me flying backward.

"It's all because of you! You jinx! Why don't you go die?"

I was only seven. His kick shifted something inside me. I curled up on the cold floor, retching blood.

Fear made my limbs tremble. But I gathered every scrap of courage I possessed and looked up at him. "Dad... I just wanted to see Grandma. What happened to her?"

He pointed a shaking finger at me, looking as if he wanted to flay the skin from my bones.

"You have the nerve to ask?" His voice rose to a roar. "I don't know what sin I committed to father a curse like you. It wasn't enough that you almost killed me and your mother? Now you've killed your grandmother too!"

His chest heaved. "If you didn't need to go to school, she wouldn't have gone to town! She wouldn't have been on that road! If it weren't for your cursed existence, she would still be alive!"

"Even in death, she was holding that bag for you." Spittle flew from his lips. "You think you deserve school? A jinx like you? What are you going to do—curse the teachers to death too?"

I looked past him to Grandma. Clutched in her stiff hand was a pink schoolbag, now stained dark with blood.