Spring had returned to Portland, painting the city with shades of green and bursts of colorful blossoms along the riverbanks. Lena opened the doors of her flower shop, letting in the fresh morning air that carried the scent of blooming tulips and the faint tang of the river. Her daughter skipped ahead, carefully placing pots of daisies along the sidewalk. Noah adjusted a banner outside, announcing a weekend community event celebrating resilience and growth. Mira flitted inside, snapping photos of the early sunlight streaming through the windows. “You’ve built more than just a shop,” Noah said, watching Lena arrange flowers. “It’s a place people come to heal, to hope, to feel brave again.” Lena smiled, brushing soil from her hands. “I never imagined this life when I first escaped. I just

