"Why waste food on a jinx?" He sneered down at me. "She's not allowed to eat. She has to kneel and atone for her sins against my mother. Starve her."

I straightened my back immediately, kneeling properly. I wanted to keep vigil for Grandma. If I just kept kneeling, Grandma could go to Heaven.

But my body betrayed me. My head grew heavy. The world spun.

Darkness swallowed me whole.

When consciousness returned, it came with the sensation of being dragged across rough ground. Someone tossed me onto a pile of straw. The stench of manure filled my nose.

The cowshed.

Voices drifted in from outside.

"Naomi seems to have a high fever," a neighbor said. "It's freezing tonight. If you leave her in the cowshed, she'll die. No matter what, she's still your daughter."

Dad scoffed. "If she dies, that's her fate. My mother is dead because of her. You want me to bring that curse into my house so she can kill me too?"

"You're doing this on purpose. You're trying to kill her."

"Watch your mouth." Dad's voice turned sharp. "If you care so much, take the jinx home and raise her yourself. See how long you live."

So.

Dad really wanted me to die.

*Fine,* I thought, drifting back into the dark. *I'll go die. When Grandma goes to Heaven, I'll go with her.*

In my haze, the cold vanished. I felt warm, cozy, and safe. Grandma appeared in the darkness, smiling at me.

"Naomi," she whispered. "My poor Naomi has been wronged."

I cried, shaking my head. "Grandma, I miss you. Take me with you."

When I woke up, I wasn't in Heaven.

I was curled up against the cow's warm belly. My fever had broken, my head clear.

I crawled out of the shed just in time to see men lifting Grandma's coffin, carrying it toward the gate.

Panic seized me. I scrambled to my feet, chasing after them. "Grandma! Where are you taking her?"

Zachary Logan blocked my path. "Naomi, stop. We're taking her to be buried. She's already gone to Heaven."

I froze.

So she was really gone.

My dad glared at me, his eyes full of venom. "You little curse. You just won't die, will you? Your grandmother is dead—why don't you go die instead?"

I opened my mouth to tell him I was planning to do exactly that, but the procession moved on.

"Let's go," someone urged. "Don't miss the auspicious hour."

I watched them disappear down the road.

Once they were gone, I turned and walked slowly toward the icy river at the edge of the village.