I was born with a cursed mouth. Whenever I spoke of something bad, it came true. When I was four years old, I dropped a single grain of rice at dinner. My grandmother flew into a rage, yanked me by the arm, and dragged me toward the old outhouse behind the house.

Chapter 15

When I opened my eyes again, three months had passed.

I was back at the mountain temple, lying in a quiet room with morning light falling across the floorboards. The abbess sat beside me, turning a string of prayer beads through her fingers.

“You spoke too many forbidden truths,” she said gently. “You revealed too much of what heaven tries to keep hidden. That is why you slept for so long.”

I pushed myself upright and bowed my head. “I understand, Master.”

“From now on,” she said, “stay here and cultivate peace. Leave the dust of the world where it belongs.”

Just then, the temple bell rang.

My parents came to see me, with Amelia beside them.

My father’s leg had healed enough for him to walk again. My mother held my hand and smiled through tears.

“Don’t worry about us,” she said. “We’re all right now.”

Then, quietly, she told me the rest.

Vivian had fallen from grace in every possible way. The people she once used and discarded turned on her. Illness, scandal, and ruin followed her until she became a shadow of the woman who once terrified everyone around her.

Lucas lost his company. Then his fortune. Then his reputation. People who once bowed to him treated him like dirt. He learned, too late, what it meant to live without power.

As for the others, all those men who had participated in my sister’s suffering, every one of them met the consequences I had promised.

I nodded, tears gathering in my eyes.

Amelia looked different now. Healthier. Softer. There was grace in her posture, warmth in her face, and the quiet dignity of someone finally allowed to live without fear. Standing beside her birth parents and the family who had raised her, she looked as if she belonged to both worlds.

Before they left, she leaned close and whispered in my ear, “Tell me the truth. My identity… was it always real? Or did your mouth make it real?”

I smiled but said nothing.

After a moment, I only answered softly, “Some things aren’t meant to be explained.”

Then I turned and walked deeper into the mountain mist.

Whether it had always been true, or whether my words had bent fate into shape, no longer mattered.

In the end, everyone arrived where they were meant to be.