*Actually, just this morning...*

Grandma had taken me to my parents' house. She told them I was old enough for school and asked Dad to buy me supplies.

Dad looked at me with disgust as I hid behind Grandma's legs. "What school does a jinx go to? She can stay home, cut grass, and feed the cows. Keep that unlucky thing away from me."

Grandma turned to Mom. Mom grabbed a broom and swept the dust toward Grandma's feet. "Go, go! Don't bring your bad luck to my doorstep. If her father won't buy it, why should I? Hurry up and take the jinx away."

Grandma had sighed. Defeated. She led me back to our small shack.

She held my hand, her voice gentle. "Naomi, wait at home. Grandma will go to town and get you that bag."

A smile crinkled her eyes. "And I'll buy you a lollipop. Strawberry flavor. Your favorite."

I had nodded, beaming. "Thank you, Grandma."

She hunched her back and began the slow walk toward town. I grabbed my basket and climbed the mountain to cut grass for the pigs, wanting to let her rest when she returned.

I never imagined that by the time I came back, Grandma would never open her eyes again.

Now, standing by the well, tears streamed down my face. I unzipped the bloody bag. Nestled in the corner was a strawberry lollipop.

I carefully placed the candy in my pocket. Then I took the bag to the well.

*Grandma bought this for me. I have to wash it. If it's clean, Grandma will be happy.*

I submerged the bag in the basin and began to scrub.

A heavy boot slammed into my back.

I plunged headfirst into the freezing water.

The icy winter water soaked through my thin clothes in an instant. The cold bit into my skin like a thousand needles. I couldn't stop shivering.

My father stood over me, his face twisted in a rictus of rage. A shaking finger pointed down at my wet, trembling form. "Sure enough—a jinx is cold-blooded! Your grandmother died buying that for you, and you have the nerve to wash it? Do you have no conscience?"

Teeth chattering, I hugged the sodden schoolbag to my chest. "Grandma... she bought it for me. I just... I wanted to wash it clean for her."

My mother scoffed from the doorway. "A jinx has no human warmth. You only care about yourself."

She crossed her arms. "I'm telling you now—washing it is useless. Your father and I aren't sending you to school. We aren't going to care for you, either. You can rot for all we care."