September 23, Monday

THE MORNING sun had barely crested the horizon when I trudged back from the chicken coop carrying a piled-high basket of eggs. I'd just set them on the kitchen counter when my phone rang and my mother's attorney's name flashed on the screen.

"Vivian," I answered, trying to keep the anxiety out of my voice. "Any news?"

"Good morning, Josephine," Vivian's crisp tone came through. "I've heard back from Curtis's representation."

I braced myself against the counter. "And?"

"He's willing to make a retraction..." Vivian paused. "In exchange for a hundred thousand dollars."

The world tilted sideways. "A hundred thou— " I swallowed hard. "Are you kidding me?"

"I'm afraid not."

"That's extortion!" I sputtered, pacing the kitchen. "He can't do that!"

"Actually, he's framing it as 'his share of the revenue' from your book sales. Legally speaking, it's not extortion."

I laughed bitterly. "His share? He didn't write a single word! And besides, I don't have that kind of money. Thanks to him, I barely have two nickels to rub together."

"I understand you're upset, Josephine. But I need you to think about this rationally. Weigh the pros and cons."

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside me. "What pros could there possibly be?"

"If you pay him off, we can get him to sign a non-disclosure agreement. He'd be legally bound to never speak about this again. It might be worth it to put this whole mess behind you and salvage your reputation."

I sank into a kitchen chair, suddenly exhausted. "And if I don't?"

Vivian's voice softened. "Then we're looking at a long, potentially very public legal battle. One that could drag on for months, maybe even years. It would be your word against his, and..." She trailed off.

"And what?"

"And given the current climate, with all the attention on ghostwriting and authenticity in publishing, it might be an uphill battle."

I closed my eyes, feeling the walls closing in. "So what you're saying is, I don't really have any other options."

"I wouldn't put it quite that way, but—"

"Thanks, Vivian," I cut her off. "I need to think about this. I'll call you back."

I ended the call and sat there, staring at the basket of eggs on the counter.

A hundred thousand dollars. The number echoed in my head, a taunting reminder of everything Curtis had already taken from me. My savings, my confidence, and now potentially my entire career.

But as I sat there, wallowing in self-pity, another thought began to form.

I did have another option. The vivianite crystal was still hidden away in my bedroom.

"A stronger spell," I murmured.