My Sister’s HeartChapter 3

I carefully wrapped the cracked silver crucifix, bought a train ticket home, and brought it to Grandma’s grave.

I looked at the overgrown tombstone, saying nothing. Alone, I hoed away the weeds, then laid out a pile of offerings.

When the red candles had burned down a quarter of the way, a voice spoke behind me.

“Young lady, has that silver crucifix cracked?”

I turned around. It was a tall, spry old man.

I didn’t recognize him, and casually replied, “Mhm.”

The old man’s eyes were shadowed. He looked me up and down. “You… you’re old Mrs. Sterling’s granddaughter, aren’t you? So she gave you that silver crucifix. This item has quite a history; it can ward off evil and prevent great calamities. Your grandma told you that, didn’t she?”

I packed my things and walked away, not saying a word.

“A silver crucifix isn’t something you can just wear casually. If the one your grandma gave you really cracked, forget about a bloody disaster, something even worse might happen…”

I snapped, “Get lost!”

The old man seemed flustered. “You rude young lady! Hey! Did you tell your family about this broken item? It’s a sign of impending doom! I’m not joking with you!”

I stopped, turning back with a wary look.

I was actually considering whether to make him shut up.

The best way to silence someone is to make them someone who can never speak again.

Perhaps my gaze was too terrifying. The old man awkwardly shut his mouth. “Alright, alright, these young people nowadays are so angry, they won’t even listen to an old man like me…”

I was about to leave, but his words made me turn back immediately.

My eyes fixed on the old man’s weathered face. “You… you’re a Miller?”

Old Miller nodded, raising his head with a somewhat triumphant look, squinting as he smiled. “That’s right, I’m known far and wide. Everyone in these ten villages knows me, Miller, the Elder!”

Miller, the Elder, a witch of my grandma’s generation.

He was very famous in the village, perhaps even more so than my grandma.

But few knew they were actually fellow apprentices, a senior and junior from the same master.

I smiled, revealing my stark white teeth.

This graveyard was far from the village. Few people ever came here, which was why it was overgrown.

Children in the village were taught from a young age never to go to this graveyard without good reason, because it was wild and remote, perfect for murder and hiding bodies.

Although I had heart disease, killing an old man with limited mobility wasn’t difficult.

I bludgeoned Miller to death with a stone, dragged him to a secluded dirt pit in a grove of trees, covered him with branches and weeds. If I was lucky, wild animals would find him and eat him.

To buy time, I smashed Miller’s face beyond recognition.

I did it without a blush or a racing heart, as calmly as if I were gutting a fish.

I didn’t return to my hometown just to pay respects to my grandma.

It was also for her dying words.

“Rowan, after the silver crucifix cracks, if you want to live, kill three people: Miller, Evelyn, and Rose.”

“Miller’s tongue, Evelyn’s eyes, Rose’s heart. Otherwise, once they're gone, they'll betray you.”

“Rowan, Grandma wouldn’t harm you. Go, now.”

I pulled a knife from my pocket, pried open his mouth, and cut out his tongue.

These three people had one thing in common.

They were all fellow apprentices of my grandma.