A Living Echo
POV: Diana
The flower hadn’t stopped glowing.
It sat on my nightstand in a bowl of moon water pulsing like a heartbeat, sof,t, Ali, ve, real. Its petals never wilted bent to gravity. They shimmered faintly like they were breathing.
By dawn, I wrapped it gently in silk and placed it inside a protective charm case. Cameron didn’t ask where we were going. He just started the car knowing without words that there was only one place to take something like this.
Maeve.
She opened the door before we knocked as usual her clouded eyes lifting toward the morning light.
“You brought her,” she said softly.
“Her?” Cameron asked.
Maeve stepped aside to let us in. “The flower,” she said. “It’s not just a gift. It’s an echo of the child herself. A bridge between soul and flesh.”
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