We met at the private, home-style bistro that had been our sanctuary years ago.
Quinn hadn't changed much, though time had sharpened his jawline, lending his features a rugged edge.
He studied me, his gaze lingering on the hollows of my cheeks and the dark circles bruising the skin beneath my eyes. His easy smile faltered. He reached out, his hand resting gently on the top of my head.
"You've been through hell."
Three simple words, yet they almost shattered my carefully constructed armor.
I swatted his hand away, forcing a casual air I didn't feel. "Knock it off. Just order. I'm starving."
The waiter had barely set the dishes down when the door to our private room crashed open.
Andrew filled the doorway, his expression thunderous, his gaze locking onto me like a predator sighting prey.
Kate shadowed him, step for step.
"Leah. We need to talk."
Andrew's voice was tight, a steel wire ready to snap.
Quinn raised a brow. He set down his chopsticks and shifted his chair, effectively shielding me from Andrew's line of sight. "Mr. Delgado. This is a private dinner. If you wish to discuss business, contact my secretary for an appointment."
Andrew ignored him entirely, his dark eyes boring into me. "Is this really necessary? Moving out? Blocking my number? Refusing to even see me? Even if we're proceeding with a divorce, we should handle the logistics like adults."
Kate's eyes brimmed with tears on command. "Leah, please don't be angry with Andrew. This is all my fault. You two should talk. I... I shouldn't have come."
As the last word left her lips, she swayed violently. Her hands flew to her abdomen, her face draining of color until she was ghostly pale. Cold sweat beaded along her hairline.
"Ah... it hurts... God, it hurts..."
She moaned, collapsing against Andrew's chest. The sight sent a jolt of recognition through me—she looked exactly as I had the day the Heartbreak Curse took hold.
Andrew caught her, panic cracking his composure. "Kate? What's wrong? Is it your condition flaring up again?"
Kate was in too much agony to speak. She could only shake her head, tears streaming down her face.
Andrew's head snapped up, his glare directed at me. "Leah! Did you do this? Did you put some kind of curse on her?"
Quinn let out a sharp scoff. "Mr. Delgado, you have quite the imagination. Though, speaking of curses—"
He cut himself off with a strangled groan.
The color vanished from Quinn's face. His tall frame lurched, and he slammed a hand against the table to keep from hitting the floor. Sweat broke out across his forehead in seconds.
"Quinn!" I bolted from my chair, rushing to steady him.
Quinn gritted his teeth, forcing a strained smile through the pain.
The symptoms were identical.
Andrew froze, his eyes darting between Kate and Quinn.
Grandma's warning echoed in my mind: Curses of the same origin resonate with one another when in close proximity.
The clay jar Kate carried contained the Heartbreak Curse. But now, it was clear that wasn't the only thing binding them.
I didn't waste a second. I reached into my bag and pulled out the silver box.
Inside lay the pitch-black pill.
"Quinn. Swallow this. Now."
I cracked the wax seal and pressed the pill to his lips.
Andrew's pupils constricted. "Leah! Is that the antidote? You're giving it to him?"
Quinn swallowed. Though sweat still poured down his face, the tension in his brow began to ease. His ragged breathing steadied.
Almost simultaneously, a guttural shriek tore from Kate's throat.
This was no longer the weak, performative whimpering from before. She curled in on herself, her features twisted in agony. A wail that sounded barely human ripped through the room. Her hands clawed at Andrew's shirt, nails digging dangerously close to his skin.
"Ah—! It burns! Andrew, save me! The curse... it's backlashing!"
She screamed hoarsely, face smeared with tears and mucus. The delicate, pitiful facade was gone, replaced by raw, ugly desperation.
Andrew was visibly shaken. "Kate! What is happening to you?!"
I watched them, my expression ice cold.
Beside me, Quinn finally caught his breath. He looked at the screaming woman, then at me, dark understanding rising in his pale face.
"Looks like someone tried to be clever with a self-harm act but didn't anticipate the consequences," Quinn murmured, his voice low but cutting. "That jar didn't just contain the Heartbreak Curse—it held the Linked-Heart Curse as well. They feed off each other, sensing intent to trigger an attack."
He leaned heavily against the wall, eyes narrowing at the woman writhing on the floor. "If the caster harbors malicious intent, contact with the Antidote's purifying power triggers a backlash. The cure becomes poison to the wicked, burning them from the inside out with amplified agony."
Andrew's head snapped up. His gaze was a turbulent mix of shock and denial.
Kate's wailing tore through the private room. "No... Andrew... save me! It burns! It hurts so much!"
She tried to argue, to spin another lie, but her body's violent reaction betrayed her. Quinn's explanation had stripped away her mask, turning her performance into a grotesque joke.
The hand Andrew used to support her seized up, his fingers turning rigid. He looked at me, his Adam's apple bobbing as he struggled to speak, but no sound escaped.
I hoisted my bag onto my shoulder, supporting Quinn with my other arm. As we passed them, I paused. My gaze settled on Andrew's ashen, vacant face.
"Andrew," I said softly, my voice carrying the calm relief of dust settling after a storm. "Now it's your turn."
Your turn to suffer. Your turn to clean up the mess.
