[Adelaide Knowles]
Eva and I stare at the termination agreement which Christian left me with. We were seated in her flowery shop. Rows of glass vases line the front counter, each holding blooms that seem to glow under the morning light: pale peonies with ruffled edges, tulips in buttery yellows, roses blushing deep red, eucalyptus leaves cascading like soft green waterfalls.
The air smells of fresh stems and damp soil, with a faint sweetness from the lilies near the window display. On the right, bundles of lavender hang upside down from wooden beams, their scent drifting like a whisper. Small pots of succulents sit on a low shelf, orderly and plump, while a leafy monstera unfurls itself proudly in the corner. Sunlight spills through the windows, catching the dust motes drifting lazily i
