The Flower That Grew from Ashes novel Chapter 183

Instead, it was the small, tangible routines of the present moment.

It was the way the first light of dawn spilled perfectly over the wooden shelves filled with seasonal blooms when she unlocked the heavy front door every morning.

It was Olaf, the retired postman from down the street, walking in like clockwork every Monday morning to offer a warm “God morgen, Anne” in his thick Norwegian accent.

It was Sophia and Emma at the back workbench, deftly prepping stems while belting out their favorite pop songs as if no one were listening.

It was spending a slow afternoon sitting behind the counter with a steaming mug of coffee, watching young parents push strollers down the street outside.

These sounds, these sights, and these scents.

These were the solid, comforting foundations of the life she had spent a thousand days rebuilding for herself.

The day of the thousand-day celebration brought gorgeous weather.

Bright sunlight pierced the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, casting warm, luminous patches across the wooden floorboards.

The shop was bustling with cheerful energy all day long.

Sophia and Emma spun around like happy little tops, handing the tiny yellow and white paper daisies to every passing customer.

“Thank you for loving Daisy,” they repeated endlessly, beaming with radiant smiles.

Behind the counter, Annelise was busy wrapping bouquets.

She wore a simple cream cashmere turtleneck, her hair swept back into a loose bun that highlighted her graceful, slender neck.

A faint, serene smile graced her lips.

It was a completely different expression from the forced, standardized smile she used to practice just to please the Lehman family.

Now, when she smiled, the light reached her eyes.

Around three in the afternoon, the crowd thinned out slightly.

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