The day before my wedding, I asked my best friend to try on her bridesmaid dress. She showed up wearing my wedding gown. The next morning, on my actual wedding day, my best friend and my fiancé emerged from the same hotel room, disheveled. The staff gasped in shock, and my parents were beside themselves with grief and outrage. My fiancé, guilt etched on his face, stepped forward to embrace me. I didn’t raise my voice or make a scene. Instead, I calmly and generously announced that I would hand over the entire wedding ceremony to them. My best friend preened, completely unaware. Just moments before, as my fiancé held me, the silver cross my grandmother had given me shattered. My grandmother had always said that when the cross broke, it meant it had deflected a calamity. A disaster of epic proportions. 1 “Delia, last night was an accident. I swear, I just… accidentally put on your wedding dress. And Aiden, well, he was so drunk he didn’t even notice…” My best friend, Clara Mackie, was saying all this, but the triumphant gleam in her eyes? Impossible to miss. Oh, I knew exactly what she was so proud of. Aiden Miller, from a prominent family, devastatingly handsome and charming. More than that, he’d always doted on his girlfriends. In the six months he’d pursued me, he showered me with gifts worth over a million dollars. We’d been together for half a year, and I’d finally agreed to marry him. And then… this. The scene before me was utterly ridiculous. Clara stood there, in my torn wedding gown, the marks on her exposed skin screaming volumes about last night’s events. Aiden, my fiancé, kept his head down, seemingly too ashamed to meet my gaze. My parents, livid, were yelling at Aiden, my father even kicking him in the shin, only to be held back by hotel staff. Aiden scrambled to his feet, walked over to me, and gave me a soft hug. “Delia, I’ve wronged you, I know. But what’s done is done. I… I hope you can grant us your blessing.” The audacity of that statement was staggering. I wasn’t stupid; I could see the subtle satisfaction in his eyes when he looked at Clara. She did have a better figure than me, and she was certainly more uninhibited. Aiden had hinted at it countless times during our courtship, but I always wanted to save that for after we were married. Everyone in the room braced themselves, expecting me to slap him or unleash a torrent of curses. Instead, I just smiled and nodded. “Alright.” Not only that, I added, “The venue’s already booked. You two can just get married today, right here.” Aiden visibly relaxed. “Delia, I knew you were a generous woman.” My parents looked like they were about to spontaneously combust, my father even reaching for a waiter’s broom, ready to wield it. “Delia Hayes! You’re just going to let these two get away with it? What about your parents’ dignity?” I gently steered my fuming parents away. Around the corridor’s bend, I pulled out the silver cross that had shattered into two perfect halves. “Mom, Dad, this is the cross Grandma left me.” The moment they saw the once-flawless silver cross now broken, their anger evaporated, replaced by a chilling dread. Mom pulled me quickly into an elevator. She eyed me with a searching look. “Did it… shatter just now?” Dad’s face, which had been beet-red, turned chalky white. His fingers trembled slightly. “No way?” I nodded. “It broke when Aiden hugged me.” My parents exchanged a glance, their brows furrowed in a tight knot. As soon as the elevator doors opened, Dad declared, “We’re moving. Now!” Passing by the wedding display outside the hotel, my parents kicked over Aiden’s life-sized cutout, then carefully picked up mine and carried it away. Mom immediately called the wedding planner, demanding that all photos and text related to me be removed, leaving no trace. Seeing my parents’ intense urgency, I was moved. I deleted all of Aiden’s contacts and photos from my phone. Our family fled the hotel in a panicked rush. That very night, our entire family packed up and moved out of the city. 2 Our extreme reaction stemmed from the cross my grandmother, Elara, had left me. Grandma Elara was renowned as the most powerful witch for miles around. From solving baffling mysteries to finding lost pets, she predicted everything. Some even whispered she wasn’t entirely human, but an animal spirit in disguise, for she had never once been wrong. Grandma Elara lived a full ninety-nine years. The day she passed was a clear, crisp winter morning. She sat in her rocking chair in the yard, soaking up the sun, stroked our old yellow dog twice, then called my name. “Little Delia!” I was only eight then. As I approached, Grandma took the cross she’d worn her entire life and fastened it around my neck. “Little Delia, keep this cross on, never take it off. If one day it shatters, it means it has shielded you from harm.” “You must immediately leave the person closest to you when it breaks.” “A shattered cross means a great calamity. A disaster of epic proportions.” I didn’t fully understand then, asking innocently, “Grandma? What kind of great calamity?” Grandma looked at me, her toothless mouth slowly uttering, “Willow Creek.” With just those two words, Grandma closed her eyes and lay back in her rocking chair, passing away peacefully. Afterward, Grandma Elara received a grand funeral. Not just our village, but respected figures from six neighboring villages attended. I told my parents everything Grandma had said about the cross. When I asked them about Willow Creek, they clammed up, immediately packed our belongings, and moved us to the city. Now, those long-buried memories resurfaced. The scandalous story of Aiden, Clara, and me spread like wildfire through our social circles. At first, everyone thought Clara, my best friend, was utterly despicable for what she did. But then they learned I hadn’t gotten angry; instead, I’d just handed over the groom and the wedding. Suddenly, people started calling me a spineless coward, saying I had no backbone even when my best friend and fiancé ran off together. The rumors swirled endlessly. But I didn’t care. Let them talk. Clara successfully hijacked the wedding, becoming the bride, Aiden’s lawful wife. She seemed incredibly pleased with herself. Her social media was a constant stream of updates, from the wedding day until now. Sparkly, pigeon-egg-sized diamond rings, the two-million-dollar cash gift from Aiden’s parents, Aiden kneeling to put on her crystal slippers, closet after closet of luxury goods… “Thanks to Delia, and thanks to my brave self for pursuing love.” “This time, I want both money and love.” “Life is short, seize the day.” Aiden, to his credit, reciprocated, filling his own feed with endless photos of their affection. Many mutual friends liked her posts, some even sucking up in the comments, “Looks like some people just aren’t destined for good fortune, huh?” Clara seemed to revel in the snide remarks about me, replying with a grinning emoji. I scrolled through her flaunting posts and chuckled. She had no idea what was coming for her, did she? Not only that, Clara went public online, boasting about her “glorious” wedding snatch, garnering significant attention. Her account gained half a million followers overnight. The comments were all praises: “Queen,” “The brave ones get to enjoy the world first,” “The unloved one is the real third party.” The news of my parents and me moving overnight also reached the netizens. The people who’d called me a coward now laughed even harder, saying my parents and I were two peas in a pod—weak and timid. I didn’t mind them talking about me, but seeing the comments mocking my parents, I couldn’t help but retort. I commented on Clara’s post: “You can criticize me, but what’s with dragging my parents into this? Do none of you have parents? Please, netizens, watch your words, and Ms. Mackie, please stop using me for clout.” 3 The moment I posted the comment, I immediately turned off my DMs. As expected, my comment was instantly flooded with attacks. Clara didn’t reply directly, but she liked all the comments slandering me. I shook my head at the black-and-white thinking. Well, what goes around, comes around. We didn’t just move; our new home was half a state away from our original city. It was a secluded area with a smaller population than other places. Mom had suggested a nearby city, but Dad, for reasons unknown, insisted on a location hundreds of miles away. Mom couldn’t argue, so we complied. Although I believed Grandma’s words, I was still curious about my parents’ reaction. That evening, at dinner, I hesitantly asked them, “Mom, Dad, what exactly did Grandma mean by a ‘disaster of epic proportions’?” My parents, who had been jovial moments before, stiffened. Mom put a piece of braised pork onto Dad’s plate. “Delia’s grown up now, honey. Maybe we can tell her?” Dad hesitated, then finally nodded. “Go ahead.” My curiosity intensified. “A disaster of epic proportions? Does it mean a natural calamity?” “Willow Creek, you remember it?” Mom asked, her expression serious. I nodded. “Yes, Grandma mentioned it to me.” Mom’s face was odd. “Willow Creek, hundreds of people, just ten miles from our village. Overnight, the entire village… hanged themselves. Wiped out.” Silence descended on the dinner table, the warm atmosphere instantly freezing. “H-hanged themselves?” I was utterly shocked. I’d imagined Grandma’s “disaster of epic proportions” to be floods, earthquakes, natural disasters. I never expected something so eerie. I pressed on. “Why?!” Mom and Dad looked uncomfortable, speaking in unison. “Ghosts.” The meal finished, but the shock in my heart lingered. No wonder Grandma, on her deathbed, gave me that life-saving cross. That cross had shielded me from such a terrible fate. It seemed Grandma hadn’t just predicted for a lifetime, but had also foreseen my future. Thinking about the Willow Creek incident, a shiver still ran down my spine. Hundreds of people hanging themselves overnight was indeed a horrific tragedy. According to my parents, the disaster about to befall Aiden must be even more terrifying. But why hadn’t the cross shattered before, only after Aiden and Clara’s liaison? Had Grandma even accounted for this unexpected turn? Just as I was marveling at Grandma’s foresight, my phone rang. It was an unknown number. I answered. A gentle, warm voice spoke, “Little Delia, are you alright?” It was Aiden! I immediately hung up and blocked the number. I wanted nothing to do with him anymore. After that night, I stopped answering any unknown calls. I valued my life! Clara continued to flaunt her wealthy wife status online. Luxury cars, designer watches, gold and jewels flowed into her bedroom like a river. Perhaps growing bored, she started looking for trouble with me again. 4 Late at night, Clara, dressed in an expensive fur coat and sitting on a plush sofa, went live. Netizens flocked to her stream, praising her beauty. Clara smiled and nodded. “I’m bored tonight, so I thought I’d do a live stream and chat with everyone.” After casually showcasing a few designer handbags, a commenter prompted her, and she brought up my name again. “Her? She probably just wasn’t born with a rich destiny, you know? Wouldn’t even eat the food spoon-fed to her, hehe.” “Best friend? She used to be… But did she really see me as a best friend? She didn’t even tell me she knew Aiden until they were together. Afraid I’d steal her man, I guess? Classic female rivalry, pfft.” “Where is she now? Her family probably got scared to death. They fled overnight on the day Aiden and I got married, probably terrified I’d become a rich wife and seek revenge.” … Watching this strange woman on screen, I couldn’t help but wonder, how could I have been so blind before? Clara was still spreading rumors about me, but observant viewers in the live stream noticed something unsettling. “Clara, did your wardrobe behind you just move?” “I thought I was the only one who saw it. Feels like there’s something inside?” “Yeah, streamer, go check it out. Maybe it’s a puppy?” Clara didn’t see these comments at first. Until the chat was flooded with warnings for her to be careful of what was behind her. I’d seen it too. The wardrobe behind Clara was slightly ajar, revealing a sliver of what looked like a faint eye. The angle was bizarre, because if it was an eye, it was at the very bottom of the wardrobe. Clara scoffed, annoyed, and clutched her fur coat tighter. “You guys are always trying to scare me. There’s no one in the villa tonight, so don’t even try.” With that, as if to prove her bravery, she clicked across the floor on her high heels to the wardrobe. “See?!” She yanked the cabinet open. “CRASH—” An inverted figure in a black leather jacket tumbled out of the wardrobe, landing with a thud on the floor. His face was covered by a black mask, and expensive jewelry was scattered around him – he was clearly a burglar. But instead of fleeing, he cowered in a corner, trembling, his eyes unfocused, face pale and green. “Ghost… there’s a ghost… ghost… don’t kill me… don’t… don’t…” As he caught sight of Clara’s fair neck, he shrieked, falling to his knees and repeatedly bowing his head to her. “I beg you, don’t kill me, please don’t kill me, I didn’t mean it… spare me, spare me…” The man slammed his forehead against the floor, creating a large bloody patch, and only continued to hit it faster. Clara froze for a moment, then clutched her chest and ran, screaming. “Help! Thief! Help!” In the chaos, the phone broadcasting the live stream fell to the ground, blocking any further view. I looked at the terrified thief, both shocked and afraid. What had he seen to be so utterly petrified? Recalling what Mom said about Willow Creek, I had a terrible premonition. This might be the harbinger of that great disaster. There was definitely something unclean in the Miller villa.
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