Chapter 3: White Poppies and Red Ribbons
1708 Words
Morning sunlight spilled through the bakery windows, catching dust motes and turning the pastel walls into warm ribbons of light. Heaven moved slowly, savoring the rare quiet of the early hour as she prepared breakfast for her little song, Lyra. The six-year-old hummed softly to herself, a melody Heaven knew by heart, as she climbed onto a chair to reach her plate.
“Mom,” Lyra said, blinking sleep from her wide eyes, “can I have a blueberry muffin?”
Heaven smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair from her daughter’s face. “Of course, sweetie. But you have to eat your eggs first. Protein gives you strength for music.”
Lyra wrinkled her nose at the eggs but smiled. “Okay… but just a few bites!” She dug in, her humming continuing between chews. Heaven watched her, chest tightening with love and something sharper—an urge to keep her safe from a world that had taken too much from her mother.
“So,” Lyra said, mouth half full, “do you think I can finally spin all the way around today?”
Heaven frowned gently, setting down the frying pan. “But you have always preferred the piano Lyra. Why are you changing?”
Lyra’s eyes sparkled. “Because you love the ballet mom! And you are so pretty when you dance! I really want to try. I practiced yesterday! Please?!”
Heaven's heart melted, brushing her hand across her daughter’s pitch black hair. Her aching as she thought about Lyra's twin–no. She would not go down the rabbit hole, not today. She gave Lyra all her attention.
“Well then, little song,” Heaven said, holding out her hand, “let’s see what you’ve got.”
They moved into the living room, Lyra spinning carefully while Heaven held her hands, guiding and balancing her. Each rotation made Lyra giggle, the sound soft and pure like wind chimes. Heaven felt warmth in her chest, and for a moment, the memories of past violence and shadowed men faded into the sunlight streaming across the hardwood floor.
After breakfast and a few more spins, it was time for school. Lyra pulled on her little coat, and Heaven adjusted her scarf with meticulous care.
“Do you need me to walk you there?” Heaven asked, holding the backpack straps.
Lyra shook her head. “No! Mrs. Carina said I can ride with her son. He’s so fast, Mom, faster than me even!”
Heaven laughed softly, pressing a kiss to the top of Lyra’s head. “Okay, my little song. Go show the world how bright you can shine.”
Lyra hopped into the neighbor’s car, waving until the car rounded the corner. Heaven watched her go, heart tight but full, before turning back to the bakery.
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By the time Heaven opened the shop, the smell of flour and sugar filled the air, mingling with the soft light spilling from the windows. Celeste was already stretching in the corner, her reflection mirroring Heaven’s own poised, careful movements.
“You’re late,” Celeste teased, tossing her hair back. “I thought I’d be the only one dancing today.”
“You’re early,” Heaven countered, smiling. “I’m just… savoring a few quiet moments before chaos arrives.”
Celeste rolled her eyes. “You mean the chaos of Liam’s devotion?”
They twirled in long floral gowns, practicing ballet routines for their upcoming recital. Heaven focused on the fluid, aching lines of Giselle, while Celeste exaggerated every villainous sneer, laughter punctuating their practice as they moved together across the hardwood floor.
“Heaven! Watch the turn!” Celeste called, narrowly catching her balance.
“I saw it,” Heaven replied dryly, not missing a beat in her routine. “Barely.” She turned her critical eyes on her friend instead.
“You need bigger steps, Celeste. To really sell it.” Heaven pointed out, her hands on her tiny waist as she tapped her slippered foot on the wooden floor.
“Ugh! Why am I always given the villain roles? The steps are always so exaggerated!’ Celeste pouted as she tumbled to the floor in a graceful arch.
Heaven laughed as she shook her hair free and let the white curls cascade around her. Behind her, Celeste let out a loud scoff.
“Sorry I even asked. I mean look at you and all that hair, of course you have to play the angel.” Celeste always said whatever she was thinking as opposed to Heaven's secretive nature. Probably why they worked so well together.
“You know you are gorgeous, Celeste. Now you are just fishing for compliments.” Heaven laughed as she stared longingly at a piece of bagel on the counter, but due to the upcoming recital, they were both on a strict diet.
“Don't even look at it.” Celeste sighed as she also fetched a cup of black coffee. They could not even risk cream and sugar. It was honestly depressing.
Abandoning the sad excuse of a breakfast, they continued spinning as they resumed their routines.
They were mid-pirouette when the bell above the door chimed. Heaven froze for just a heartbeat before realizing it was nothing more sinister than two very ordinary men entering. Celeste’s face lit up immediately, cheeks rosy.
“Carter!” she squealed, abandoning her pose to run to him. She pressed a quick kiss to his lips, eyes sparkling with affection.
Heaven’s reaction was quieter, a subtle, disbelieving “Ugh” escaping her as she observed them. She had never liked men who fawned so eagerly, and the intensity in Carter’s gaze made her instinctively step back.
And then there was Liam. He was taller than her by just enough to loom over her without that delicious thrill, dark eyes fixed with almost reverent fascination.
The look on his face was disturbing to say the least. Having been around red flags, Heaven could recognize it easily. It could never stay in its disguise for very long.
She caught him reaching out, his hand brushing a loose strand of her white-blonde hair from her face. His touch was gentle, almost worshipful. “You’re…beautiful, Heaven” he breathed softly, devotion in his voice.
She stiffened, chest tightening. Her mind flashed unbidden yesterday's chaos. A man, far more dangerous, whose gaze had pinned her to the spot and stole her breath without touching her.
Liam was just a boy. A good-looking, devoted boy, harmless in comparison. And yet, her pulse hammered in her ears. Why did it feel impossible to breathe without tension creeping in?
“I…uh…Celeste, you might want to save that kiss,” Heaven said dryly, moving away from Liam's oppressive atmosphere and breaking up the moment in general. “Or we’ll never get the shop set up.” Her sarcasm masked the shiver that ran down her spine.
Celeste, laughing, reluctantly released Carter and rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.”
Heaven muttered under her breath, “And you’ve got the worst taste in men.”
She knew Celeste heard her though when her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Heaven scoffed. Louder this time.
Before more banter could follow, the doorbell chimed again. A delivery man appeared, holding a small, crisp bouquet of white poppies tied with a stark red ribbon. He handed it over with just a bow, the simplicity of the gesture making the colors even more striking.
Celeste’s fingers brushed the petals, and a shiver ran down her spine. “White…poppies?” she whispered. “With…a red ribbon?”
Heaven’s stomach knotted. The ribbon was like a s***h of warning against the purity of the flowers, innocence marked by blood. Her eyes narrowed as she read the small note tucked inside:
I am watching.
Her heart skipped. Her gaze flicked to Liam. His admiration hadn’t wavered. But the intensity that had seemed sweet only moments ago now felt invasive, suffocating. Heaven’s mind raced, was it him? Was this a threat? Or just coincidence?
Celeste held the bouquet tightly, glancing at Heaven with wide, uncertain eyes. “This…this feels wrong.”
“I know,” Heaven said quietly, forcing herself to take a slow breath. “We need to leave. I…we…have somewhere to be.” She kept her voice steady, though every muscle in her body screamed alert.
She thought of her half-brother, Santino, and the family lunch he had invited her to. It was the safest, most mundane place she could imagine, away from men like these. “I’ll get us out of here,” she nodded to herself with a determined set to her jaw.
Taking Celeste aside, she whispered, “We need to leave.” Celeste frowned as she jerked back to look at Carter.
“And where are we going exactly?” She asked, Heaven took in a deep breath.
“My father's house. I need to talk to Santini.”
Celeste frowned. “But you don't go home, you are not welcomed there. You said this. We don't have to run away, Heaven. The note is not that scary anyway.”
Heaven wondered how she could possibly tell her best friend that her main suspect was her boy friend and His best friend. It was too complicated.
Heaven sighed, gripping a table for support. “Look, it's just lunch, alright. And the shop will survive being closed down for one day. And Lyra is at school.”
As she moved toward the stairs to their apartment above the bakery, her mind raced. The men from yesterday. Liam’s obsessive gaze. The note. White poppies with blood-red ribbons. Her chest tightened with a familiar, cold fear. She had seen enough of her world: the blood, the power, the lethal devotion, to know danger when it came dressed in gentleness.
Heaven closed her eyes, tightening her fists. No guns today, no men in black. No threats. Just her. Just the quiet she needed to gather herself.
And yet, the message of the flowers lingered in her mind. Whoever was watching…was close.
She could not help the niggling feeling that something was going to happen, she could only pray that it would not tear her apart.
- Writer
