Since my stepmother Helen married my father, there’s always been an unspoken tension between us, perhaps due to our different personalities or my lingering memories of my late mother. Despite this, I valued the happiness Helen brought to my father after my mother’s passing.
One rainy day, Helen surprised me with a beautifully wrapped gift. Inside was an intricately embroidered towel. “I thought you’d like it. It’s something special,” she said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
A few days later, my father Tom noticed the towel and reacted with shock, angrily throwing it away, claiming it was cursed. He explained Helen believed in using objects to influence people, revealing her involvement in strange practices.
“Why would she do that?” I asked, bewildered.
He hesitated. “She’s been more involved in these things lately,” he admitted uncomfortably.
This revelation left me shaken, realizing there was more to Helen than I ever imagined.
