The village healer, Granny, had once given me three small charm packets.

On graduation day, I opened the first one as instructed. [Find a policeman to accompany you to eat beef noodles.]

Though puzzled, I did as told, and in that bowl I found a severed finger. Later, I learned the finger belonged to my roommate, and the killer had been hiding in the dorm wardrobe. I was the target.

The second packet was to be opened at the happiest moment. I looked at the person beside me in bed, placed my hand on the child in my womb, and firmly tore it open.

This time, the handwriting was vivid red, with only three words. [Abort! Run now!]

——

The large scarlet words struck me like a blow, and my limbs weakened. After years of a barren marriage and endless treatments, this fragile life had come through three years of IVF. Why should the child I had fought so hard for be ordered to die?

But I didn’t have long to agonize. The pregnancy test in my hands soon turned into a miscarriage report. I hurriedly bought a high-speed train ticket, and I ran.

Because Granny’s packet had warned me clearly. [Abort! Run now!]

My granny was a well-known healer in the nearby villages. Before she passed, she left me three packets.

On her deathbed, she waved weakly and whispered into my ear with her fading breath. “Fiona, Granny has seen your fate. Three calamities await you. One wrong step, and you’ll become a vengeful ghost.”

She pressed the small charm bags into my hands. “These three packets were prepared after I glimpsed your destiny. They will help you cross the ghost gate. Keep them safe.”

My parents had died young, and it was Granny who raised me with her own hands. Though her words sounded strange, I believed her completely and carried the three packets to university.

I finally opened the first one on graduation day, just as she had instructed. [Find a policeman to accompany you to eat beef noodles.]

By coincidence, my boyfriend was a student at the police academy, and the most popular shop near campus was known for its beef noodles. I never imagined that inside the bowl, I would find a severed finger.

He reacted instantly, calm and decisive. He restrained the shop owner on the spot and uncovered a dismembered body hidden in the kitchen freezer.

By comparison, the victim turned out to be my roommate, who had gone out looking for work. The arrested waiter knew nothing; the real murderer was the boss.

He had been hiding in my dorm wardrobe, waiting for me to return. When the police dragged him out, they found rolls of black tape, a ten-meter sheet of white plastic, and two sharp bone knives. If I had walked in that night, I would have left no trace behind.

The police quickly investigated the boss, Richard Stuart. To their shock, he was the serial dismemberment killer who had been at large for more than a decade.

My hand shook as I clutched the little charm packet, finally understanding Granny’s intention: those packets were meant to help me survive the ghost gate.

In court, I stood as a witness. The evidence was overwhelming, yet Richard still turned his head and flashed me a vicious smile.

He called out my name, his voice cold. “Fiona.”

“Your roommate and you both had two-character names. She cried for ‘mom’ before she died. I wonder what you will cry out. I have never made a mistake. Don’t worry, you cannot escape.”

His final words crawled straight into my bones, making my entire body tremble.

That curse became my nightmare, even though the police later told me Richard had already been executed. Every time I opened or closed my eyes, his threats returned to haunt me. As if that weren’t enough, I soon discovered my boyfriend’s betrayal.

Crushed by the double blow, I fled the city. Yet I never let despair consume me; as long as Granny’s charm packets were still with me, I believed I could survive.

In the new city, I met Felix Clark, who later became my husband.

He was three years older than me, gentle, considerate, from a wealthy family, and a respected psychologist.

The first time I visited his home, I already felt the distance between us. As I had expected, his whole family greeted me with cold indifference, and even the glances from his close friends carried sarcasm and envy.

I turned down his proposal and chose once again to run. But in chasing after me, Felix ended up in a car accident. Before being wheeled into the operating room, he was still murmuring my name.

I stayed by his side without leaving, and when he finally woke, he clutched my hand tightly.

“Fiona, I love you. If I hadn’t made it, we would never have seen each other again. Can you really be so heartless?”

I accepted his proposal after that, and his family said nothing more. Happiness washed over me, yet even in the middle of it, I hesitated to open the packet.

Not long after, I was diagnosed with polycystic ovaries, which made conception difficult. Only when I finally succeeded in becoming pregnant did I dare to carefully open it.

I had countless guesses, perhaps blessings, or advice for becoming a new mother. But it was none of those. Only three bloody words stared back at me:

Abort!! Run now!!

In my memory, Grandma had always been calm and steady, as if even the fall of the sky could not move her. For her to scrawl such words in blood could only mean a disaster beyond measure.

Felix’s calls came one after another, and when I refused to answer, his text messages flooded in.

[Why do you want to abort the child?]

[Is it still because of that damn packet? Is it really that important!?]

[Fiona, you’ve really disappointed me.]

The sharp tone of disappointment cut through the screen, leaving me at a loss as tears of shame and grief streamed uncontrollably.

For three years, Felix had cared for me with meticulous tenderness.

He was the one who treated me best, second only to Grandma.

When my mother-in-law mocked me as nothing more than an old hen who couldn’t lay eggs, Felix had taken me away and even borrowed money to buy us a new house.

Three years of IVF had left my stomach covered in needle marks, and every time Felix saw them, he would cry as if the pain were his own.

Rain or shine, he went with me to every checkup, even saving my doctor’s number in his phone. When work kept him away, he always asked about my condition.

This child was the fruit of our shared struggle, yet now I was about to destroy it on my own.

Soon, Felix sent another message. This time, his tone was softer.

[Wife, I was wrong. I shouldn’t have lost my temper. I just can’t bear to think of your three years of effort.]

[Where are you?]

[What did the packet say?]

[Fiona, tell me. I can face it with you.]

I fought the urge to reply and shut off my phone.

I didn’t dare return to my hometown, so I got off one station early and found a hotel. Holding the last packet in my hand, I remembered Grandma’s words. This one was meant for when I was most lost and helpless. Wasn’t that exactly what I was now?

Why must I abort the child? Why must I run? And after that, where would I even go?

I desperately needed an answer.

Taking a deep breath, I tore open the packet, my trembling fingers quickly unfolding the note.

Once again, it carried only a short sentence. [Keep your phone open at all times]

What did that mean?

I stared at the black screen of my phone and, following the instructions, powered it on.

Messages poured in one after another, but just as I was about to check them, the electronic sound of the door unlocking broke the silence.

Faint noises drifted from the entrance. My heart froze.

I crawled off the bed, my eyes darting toward the door; the chair I had wedged against it now stood crooked.

Someone was outside!

Almost by instinct, I rushed into the bathroom and locked the door in one swift motion.

At that exact moment, the chair was shoved violently aside. Two men stormed in, pounding and kicking at the bathroom door.

“Fuck! That bitch noticed us!”

“Open the door now!”

My back pressed against the wood, and my whole body went numb from the pounding. I bit down hard on my lip until I tasted blood. The sudden ding of a message jolted me; fumbling, I dialed the police.

When I gave the address, the officer hesitated a moment, then answered quickly, “We just happen to be doing a routine check at the hotel next door. Hold on three minutes, we’ll be there.”

The thugs overheard and cursed. “Weren’t the cops supposed to be done with their sweep and back at the station? How are they still here? And this close!”

“Fuck it, kill her! Only then do we get the final payment!”

They kicked the bathroom door hard, then took turns hacking and pounding at it with knives. The whole room trembled. The semi-transparent glass threw back their snarling shadows; terror tried to drag my soul out of my body.

With a crash, the glass shattered across the floor. One thug stretched a hand toward me.

At the last critical moment, several policemen rushed in with guns and subdued the thugs almost instantly.

“Is it you, Fiona?”

I looked up, and the leader was my ex-boyfriend, Archer Scott.

The thugs were taken to the station for overnight interrogation, but they kept insisting they had acted only out of lust, denying any other motive.

“There was no employer at all!”

“She dressed so slutty, clearly trying to seduce me! Why arrest just us brothers and not her?”

“Your captain knows this bitch, I’ll accuse you of favoritism and corruption!”

I trembled with fury, rolling up my sleeves, wanting nothing more than to slap them.

“You’re slandering me! At the hotel, you clearly said there was an employer! Officers, you must help me!”

Archer’s face was serious, but he gave me a steady, reassuring look. The two men stuck firmly to their story of lust, offering no clue about any employer. In the end, Archer arranged for someone to escort me back to a nearby hotel.

“The hotel is right next to the station. If anything happens, call me.”

I nodded and thanked him.

Reuniting with an old acquaintance stirred a storm of emotions in me.

Back then, when I had taken him for beef noodles and we uncovered the dismemberment killer, Archer had earned a third-class merit and a bright future. But he had also betrayed me; I had seen him lying in bed with another woman with my own eyes.

With a policewoman accompanying me, I arrived at the hotel. After checking in, my phone buzzed.

[Sister Fiona, open the door, it’s Diane Stuart.]

[Brother Felix went to a symposium and didn’t have time, so he sent me to check on you.]

Diane was my attending doctor, the one who had guided me through IVF. The three little charm packets had all been opened, and the dangers Grandma had warned about should have already passed. Could this mean I could finally live a normal life?

At that thought, the corners of my lips lifted into a small, unguarded smile, and I opened the door. Diane carried several large bags, and I took them from her hands.

“We’re old acquaintances, no need to be so polite.”

Diane smiled warmly. “Oh no, these are all necessary.”

I smiled as I invited her in, but the moment my eyes fell on the bag, my smile froze. Inside was a thick roll of white plastic sheeting.

When I reached further, my fingers pressed against a large roll of black tape. Digging deeper, I touched something cold and sharp. The blade cut into me, a sting of pain shooting up my hand as a thin line of blood slid down my finger.

On my still-lit phone screen, a message from Archer appeared. [They confessed. The employer is Diane.]