Chapter 2

His eyes locked onto the pocket of my ritual clock, where the end of a braided black cord peeked out.

His hand darted into my pocket and roughly pulled out a clear-quartz pendant.

It was a protective relic Joel had bestowed upon me when I left. The crystal was flawless and almost luminous. Its facets were carved with intricate banishment sigils.

“Did you plan to bless us with this?” Ted held the pendant up to his face, which was full of contempt.

“What is this, some one-dollar junk you bought from a street vendor? Do you really think it’s special?”

I kept my eyes on the quartz and flatly said, “It can deflect one fatal omen.”

“Ha!” Ted let out an enraged laugh. “A fatal omen? You’re not a psychic, you’re just a delusional loser!”

With that, he raised his hand and hurled the clear-quartz pendant to the floor.

Crack!

A crystalline snap echoed in the small room.

The pendant shattered into pieces.

I could feel the last trace of protective energy within it dissipating into nothing.

I looked down at the fragments, then at my enraged father and Mason, who was enjoying the show.

The last fragile thread of familial feeling in my heart snapped along with the crystal.

The final sliver of affection I had left for this family shattered right along with that pendant.

He had no idea that what he had just shattered was not merely a piece of quartz, but the life force of my grandfather, Arthur Stratton.

Forget it.

Some people only understood lessons when they came with consequences.

Thanks to Mason’s efforts, the news that the Stratton family had a fraud-psychic for a son quickly spread through their entire social circle.

I became the running joke of the entire rich-kid social circle.

A few days later, the family hosted a formal dinner for business associates.

I was ordered into a suit and seated at the far end of the table.

During the meal, my uncle, William Stratton, suddenly spoke up with a chuckle.

“Ethan, I heard you picked up some skills during your time in the mountains. Why don’t you show us something? Maybe read someone’s fortune?”

William was Ted’s younger brother and a senior executive in the company. He looked friendly.

However, I could see the greed and malice in his eyes. He was much more vicious than Mason.

Mason jumped in immediately and pushed me into the spotlight.

“Yes, Ethan, show us what you can do.”

Every eye in the room fixed on me.

A woman, dressed in revealing clothes, draped over Mason. She pressed her fingertips to her forehead and cooed dramatically. “Hey, wonder-boy psychic. I’ve had these awful headaches lately. Why don’t you read my aura?”

I glanced at her.

Her aura looked deceptively bright on the surface, but underneath it was dull, clouded. The relationship markers around her energy field were smudged and dark.

Those were classic signs of toxic romantic entanglements and a destabilized pregnancy aura.

I did not elaborate. I simply pulled a warding charm on a piece of ritual parchment that I had drawn earlier from my pocket and handed it to her.

“Keep this on you. It will help.”

She took the parchment with a look of distaste. After a subtle nod from Mason, she tucked it into her clutch purse.

I thought that would be the end of it.

However, that very night, the woman was rushed to the hospital, violently ill.

She immediately claimed it was the parchment I gave her. She accused me of “poisoning” her.

Mason and William seized the opportunity and fanned the flames at home.

“Dad, look at what he’s done! He’s trying to hurt people! How could someone this twisted stay under our roof?”

“Ted, this is a serious stain on the family’s reputation. This needs to be dealt with decisively. Otherwise, if this gets out, the Stratton name will be a laughingstock.”

Ted looked like he was about to have an aneurysm from the rage.

He pointed a trembling finger at me. He struggled to form words before finally roaring one command. “Scram!”

I was locked back in the attic and forbidden from seeing anyone.

Ted probably thought calling the police would be too humiliating.

I sat in the dark room, unnervingly calm.

Fine by me. We would see just how spectacularly stupid this family could get.

They kept me confined for three days.

On the third day, I was summoned downstairs for dinner. The atmosphere at the table was icy.

William placed a piece of meat in my bowl. Then, he asked with feigned concern, “Ethan, have you thought things through up there? Maybe this place just isn’t for you. How about I give you some money, and you can return to the mountains?”

Mason did not bother to hide his scorn.

“Aren’t you a shameless con artist? I’d lose my appetite from the guilt if I were you.”