chapter 12
206 Words
The next day, Gracie found another box.
This one sat neatly on her porch chair, as if it had been placed with care instead of tossed aside like a delivery. Same black box. Same crimson ribbon.
Her stomach dropped the moment she saw it.
“No… no, no, no,” she whispered, backing up a step before forcing herself forward. She was right. Whoever sent the first rose wasn’t finished.
With stiff hands, she carried it inside. She already knew what she’d find, but dread still pulsed in her veins as she pulled the ribbon loose.
The lid lifted.
Another rose.
Blood red. And this time Thornless.
A note tied to the ribbon again, folded crisp, waiting. Her throat tightened as she opened it, eyes devouring the words written in that same hands writing.
“Even the sharpest thorns can soften when touched by the right hands"
Confusion struck in that moment. Although confused, gracie knew that for the past few days, she had been feeling as if she's being constantly watched.
she began to realize that these two were connected. this is no coincidence.
Gracie quickly runs back inside locking all doors and windows.
"What the hell is going on?" She asks herself out loud.
- Writer
