The last thing you'd expect to see on a florist's resume is Ex-CIA Officer, Sometime Killer. But then again I'm not even allowed to put that on my resume, so...
This is where I begin again, where my demons start dancing around the daisies. It wasn't where I thought I'd end up, but that's the story of my life.
I wonder what they would do if I sent them each a bouquet, those men who ruined my life? Rosemary for remembrance, to show them just how long my memory is...
People coming out of a trauma seek familiar comforts...we retreat into surroundings that make us feel safe, until we're ready to confront our demons again. Wrapped in a quilt that was handmade in every way by the adopted family she loved, Vivian is wearing it like armor, safe under its protection, waiting until her strength returns.
I could tell that the quilt had been lovingly and carefully stored away in a linen closet: the smell of the lavender sachet that Sarah Chase had grown, dried and sewn herself was faint but undeniable as it surrounded me. It was like a ghostly hug that gave me permission to cry a little more, even though each tear was like a drop of acid burning my heart away, the contents of the past few years sealed firmly behind locks and keys that were melted into something cold and gray, taking up residence in the farthest corner of my heart.