The Flower That Grew from Ashes novel Chapter 204

Six days after signing the lease, the arched windows of the old bookstore were cleaned for the first time.

Morning light angled down through the fifteen-foot-high ceiling, illuminating a floor covered in sawdust and wood shavings.

Contractors were setting up scaffolding beneath the second-floor skylight, the sound of hammering echoing in steady waves.

Annelise crouched in a corner of the first floor, a piece of sandpaper in hand, diligently polishing a wooden display table she had insisted on finishing herself.

"Anne, just let the workers handle this kind of manual labor," Sophia called out as she jogged over with a stack of blueprints, a layer of dust clinging to her red hair. "You're the boss, the designer, not a carpenter."

"My flowers are going on this table." Annelise didn't even look up, pushing the sandpaper back and forth along the wood grain. "I need to know exactly how it feels."

"You're unbelievable." Sophia sighed helplessly, setting the blueprints down on the windowsill. "Emma is going over the electrical layout with the contractor. She says the row of spotlights on the first floor needs to be adjusted so the 9 AM light hits the display table at the exact angle you sketched out."

"Adjust it," Annelise replied smoothly. "That beam of light is the soul of this room."

Sophia pursed her lips, leaning in to inspect her handiwork.

The display table was made of light oak. Annelise had requested rounded edges, carefully sanding down every sharp corner.

"Why rounded?" Sophia asked, puzzled. "Square edges look so much cleaner."

"We'll have mothers bringing their kids to our workshops," Annelise said. "If a child runs into a sharp corner, they'll get hurt."

Sophia froze for a second, then broke into a grin.

"You... your heart is even softer than your pretty face."

Annelise didn't respond, simply flipping her sandpaper and continuing to smooth the wood.

A contractor yelled from the second floor, asking if the old wooden wall behind the bar needed a fresh coat of paint.

"No paint," Annelise stood up and shouted back. "Leave it exactly as it is. Don't even touch the peeling spots."

"The wall is literally peeling," the contractor leaned over the railing.

"Those are the scars of a building that's lived for a hundred years," Annelise said. "If we cover them up, it dies."

The contractor grumbled something in Norwegian and pulled his head back.

Sophia chuckled beside her. "Mr. Judd's blueprint said the exact same thing. 'Repair every brick and tile exactly as it was.' Eriksen definitely wasn't wrong about you two being in sync."

Annelise crouched back down.

She wanted to finish sanding the final corner of the table.

Halfway through her stroke, a sharp, un-sanded splinter unexpectedly jutted out.

Her fingers slid forward with momentum, and the splinter sliced right into the soft skin between her thumb and index finger.

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