Murder Mystery of Arck

Flowers of Solace

“Why are we picking these flowers?” Sebastian asks, taking his wallet out and paying the vendor. I give the vendor a small smile, which she returns, and take the bouquet from her hands. It was nothing fancy; just a white paper wrapped around the white flowers.

“What do you mean?” I question, not understanding his question completely. We both turn around and start walking towards the exit of the shop. “Do they symbolize anything?” He says, holding the door open.

“Well,” I say as I try to remember the meanings I once read, “Peach roses mean sympathy. White lilies mean innocence. Forget-me-nots mean respect and remembrance. White tulips mean forgiveness. To be honest, I didn’t think we’d find the flowers we needed. I’m glad we did.”

“I see. Why just one rose?” He asks, raising his eyebrows. “One rose in a bouquet means lasting love for the departed,” I answered without hesitation. I am surprised that I remember any of this when I ordered the flowers.

I read about plants, their meanings, the time of the year they grow in, etc a long time ago. I think I had a book in which I wrote everything. Although it was just for fun, I’m glad I read about them. The knowledge is coming handy.

“And may I ask why you know so much about flowers?” Sebastian inquires as we near the car. “I’ll tell you some other time,” I replied, getting into the car after opening the door.

The snow stopped a few minutes ago and the cold has become a bit bearable. Many people are still outside, despite the cold. The warm glow of the coffee shops around tempted me, but I resisted the urge.

But I still like winters. The cold and wetness bothers me, but I still like this time of the year. I may not wait for it to come, nevertheless, when it does come around I feel at ease for some reason.

Winters remind me that another year is finally ending. And as quickly as it has passed, I am closer to becoming independent. I am closer to ending my parents’ sufferings and their pain. I am closer to becoming something I dreamed about.

While my dreams were never as specific as others, I always knew one thing, and that is I want my family to live the rest of their lives in peace. I don’t want to become a source of sorrow and pain, but of reliance and happiness.

I shiver, start to feel a little cold, and move away from the window. Sighing, putting the bouquet on the space next to me as I pull my jacket tighter; trying to feel warm.

“Are you cold?” Eric inquires, looking at me through the rearview mirror. “Its fine,” I say, waving my hand to show that there is nothing to worry about.

I feel a hand on my forehead suddenly. Blinking in surprise, I look at Sebastian. He looks somewhere and thinks about something deeply. His hand flips and his palm touches my forehead.

He finally looks at me and informs, “You have a fever.” I stayed still as I was, thinking he was going to continue. A moment of silence passes by, and I realize he is not going to say anything else. “What about it?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.

He opens his mouth, but I have known him for five months and it is enough for me to understand some of his basic habits. “Don’t say I told you so,” I say, not giving him a chance to speak. He slowly closes his mouth, but he looks at me with knowing eyes.

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We reach Mark’s house after a while of waiting in the traffic. Sebastian and I got out of the car and Eric decided to just stay in the car. He said that he is neither close to the deceased nor is he fond of the cold.

There aren’t any people in the yard and the cars I saw near the cemetery aren’t anywhere in sight as well; which could mean that everyone has gone home. I was hoping to meet the girl who was holding Mark’s mother.

My hands shake as I open the gate and walk towards the house. I am not nervous to meet anyone unexpected. I just hope I don’t.

I don’t know much about Harry, however long we have known each other. He is a very private person and likes to be alone. And it is neither wrong nor as shocking as I’d guess it would be.

Harry is quite friendly with anyone and everyone. So, I am not surprised that he was a friend of Mark.

However, I am bothered by the fact that Sebastian didn’t know about it. Sebastian, as stubborn and commanding as he is, is a trustworthy confidant. And since they have known each other and have been close for a long time, Harry could have easily told Sebastian about his friendship with Mark.

I am both curious and worried about what Harry would say when we confront him. The authorities working on this case would find out about Harry’s relationship with Mark soon enough, if they are putting in the effort.

I turn my head slightly, hoping to look at Sebastian, but he is not there. I look around to find him talking to Eric through the car window. He looks at me and gestures to me to wait a moment. I shake my head and wait there until he comes. Going in together is better than going in separately; it calms down my anxiety a little.

I take a deep breath. The heaviness and tightness is growing with the wait. The more I wait, the more I want to turn around and run the other way. I know what Mark’s family is going through now and I know the mess these things cause.

And as much as I want to console and comfort them, I don’t think I can withstand the heavy air and confront the tired faces. It’s suffocating and frustrating, knowing that I can’t do anything that could help them in some way.

“You forgot the bouquet, May,” Sebastian says, waving the bouquet in front of me. “Huh?” I exclaim, coming out of my dazed state, “Oh, yeah. Sorry.” He frowns as he looks at me as if analyzing my expressions.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” he mumbles as his hand touches my forehead, “Are you okay? Is the fever getting worse?” I put his hand away and murmured, “I’m okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“Your hands are shaking, May.”

“And I thought I told you not to worry about it.”

I lift my hand up to knock on the front door, but Sebastian catches it and stops me. I look at him, clenching my jaw involuntarily. I see a realization flash in his eyes and wash over his face as his hand releases mine.

“I know you’re nervous,” he says, putting his hand on my shoulder, “I am, too. And it’s okay. I just want you to know that we are working together for this and that you can rely on me for the time being.”

I think I like this about Sebastian. He gives solace when needed and makes it seem like he is not doing it out of obligation. I need that, for big things or small things. And I need the intangibility it provides. I fear that I won’t be as reliable to him as he is to me.

Without saying another word, he knocks on the front door and waits patiently with one hand behind his back and the other holding the bouquet. Sebastian is more considerate than I give him credit for.

A sense of relief passes through my body that relaxes my rigidness. Whatever happens after we return to the university, I’m going to deal with it, alongside Sebastian.

The door opens revealing the girl I wanted to meet.

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