VICTORIA'S POV
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I halt as I leave my apartment, staring down at the thin, medium height brown box on the floor, a handwritten note atop it with my name. Confused, I pick it up, suddenly not fearing about my time anymore as I turn back in and place the box on the counter. I didn’t order anything recently. Grabbing a knife, I cut the tape down the middle before tearing it open to find a beautiful beige, gold and white vase. I smile at the sight of it. Ryder. Opening the note, I read the one sentence that's written in beautiful handwriting. Handwriting I’d recognize even in my next life.
'For the flowers I'll gift you next time,' I stare at the handwriting, remembering how many notes Ryder had make for me in school, the flash cards with perfect letters to read. Realization slaps me on th
