I’d grown up fatherless with a mum who watched the clock count down until she could leave Loren Brae.
I’d heard her murmur about a curse for years now. But when pressed, she’d clammed up, her eyes welling with tears.
I’d always thought it was just her grief. Could it be something more?
The room spun. I gripped the arms of my chair, trying to anchor myself.
“I don’t understand,” I whispered. “You can’t be serious?”
“I wish I wasn’t. And I wish that I knew more. That I knew how to break it. My time here is almost done, Agnes. I have to make you understand how important this is.Graham…well, I love him too, don’t I? We all raised him as much as we did you.”
I knew she wasn’t lying. Graham had always been a favorite of hers.
“But you need to know. Now that you’re in love.”
“I’m not…” I broke off, my cheeks flaming.
Gran coughed, the sound shaking her entire body, and this time she accepted water from her cup.
“There are stories—old stories—about a debt. Something one of our ancestors did, long ago, some bargain or betrayal. But the records are lost, if they ever existed. The Wrights scattered, you ken? At some point. We don’t know why. All I have is this.”
Gran leaned forward and pressed something cold and smooth into my hand. I looked down to find a ring, with small etches in an odd chalice-like design, and I instinctively curled my fingers around it.
“Gran. Your ring.”
“Yours now.”
“I can’t—” I glanced over to my mum who just nodded at me to take it. Swallowing down my sadness, I slipped the ring on my finger.
Gran pulled me closer, her breath warm against my ear.
“The loch finds a way, Agnes. If you never believe another thing I say, know this. The loch… it always finds a way. And it does not forget.”
I was crying now, tears streaming down my face unchecked. Because I believed her. Goddess, help me, but I believed every word. All those drownings, all those accidents, stretching back through generations—it couldn’t just be coincidence. It was too consistent.
“I do love him,” I choked out. “Gran, I love him so much?—”
“I know you do, sweetheart.” Her own tears fell freely now. “That’s why you have to let him go.”
“I can’t?—”
“You can.” Her voice turned fierce. “You must. If you truly love him, Agnes, you’ll protect him from this. From us.”
“There has to be another way. There has to be something?—”
“There might be, but I haven’t found it yet.” The words were heavy with decades of loss. “Don’t you think I looked? But it’s not worth it, is it?”
I shook my head, barely able to breathe. The summer flashed through my mind in fragments—Graham’s laugh, his touch, his mouth worshipping my body.
Our love was a death sentence for him.
“Promise me, Agnes.”
I looked up, meeting Gran’s eyes. They were fading now, the sharpness dimming as exhaustion pulled her back under. But her grip on my hand was like iron.
“Promise me you’ll protect him. Promise me you won’t let the loch take another man we love.”
“Gran—”
