The Flower That Grew from Ashes novel Chapter 172

Annelise stood rooted to the spot, taking in everything before her.

She looked at the small cake, the crooked bouquet, the bright, radiant smiles of Alyssa and Marta on the screen, and finally at the red-haired girl in front of her whose face practically screamed, *'Praise me!'*

She froze for a solid three seconds.

And then, she smiled.

It was a long-lost, genuine smile—completely pure, effortless, and light.

Her eyes crinkled into beautiful crescents, the corners of her lips turning up uncontrollably.

That smile was as bright as the never-setting sun of an Oslo June.

*Click.*

Sophia had whipped out her phone at some point and permanently captured that exact moment.

Sophia later printed the photo out and sneakily slipped it into Annelise's wallet.

It became the most beautiful picture Annelise ever had taken in Norway.

That intimate little birthday party lasted less than half an hour.

They shared the cake, Annelise gratefully accepted the lopsided bouquet, and then the flower shop launched into its usual bustling business day.

That evening, Annelise closed up shop an hour early.

She locked the door and stepped out, getting ready to head back to her apartment.

That was when she noticed a familiar little paper bag resting on the three small steps by the shop's entrance.

It looked exactly like the one from Christmas last year.

Only this time, the hand-drawn pencil sketch on the bag wasn't a Christmas tree.

It was a vivid, blooming daisy.

Annelise felt as though a warm hand had gently squeezed her heart.

She walked up the steps and picked up the bag.

It wasn't large, but it had a bit of weight to it.

Opening it, she found a pair of hand-stitched gloves made of supple, dark brown leather.

Tucked beside the gloves was a small yellow sticky note.

The handwriting was Yves Judd's—clean, sharp, and unmistakably his.

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