As the Flower Blooms Episode 17: The Face in the Photograph

Camellia’s words hung over the design table.

Rose stared at the faded photograph. Beside her, Ruby stood perfectly still, the ivory streak in her crimson petals catching the lamplight.

Daisy looked around the studio.

“Well, that narrows it down to everyone who has ever said, ‘Trust me.’ Which, for the record, is almost always when things get expensive.”

Neither sister smiled.

“Show us,” Ruby said.

Camellia drew the photograph closer.

Behind the younger Rose and Ruby, near the edge of the east garden gate, stood a pale bloom. Most of its face disappeared beneath the shadow of an archway.

But one detail remained clear.

A narrow ribbon, tied twice around the stem.

Peony leaned forward.

“White Rose wears hers that way.”

The Hydrangeas turned so quickly their blooms bumped together.

“I knew the double knot meant something,” one whispered.

“You thought it meant she knew a sailor,” the other replied.

White Rose said nothing.

Rose slowly turned toward her.

“Tell me that isn’t you.”

White Rose looked down at the photograph.

“I can’t.”

Daisy’s petals fell open.

“Oh, this is absolutely going to require a larger vase.”

Ruby moved closer to White Rose.

“You were there?”

“Yes.”

“When our mother was taken?”

White Rose’s voice barely carried.

“Yes.”

Rose recoiled.

All this time, White Rose had stood among them, offering careful answers and knowing glances. She had watched the ledger open. Watched the golden key change hands.

Watched two sisters try to piece their lives together.

“And you let us keep guessing?”

“I was trying to find out how much Camellia remembered.”

Camellia lifted her bloom.

“I remember you leading her toward the gate.”

“You saw us leave,” White Rose replied. “You didn’t see what happened afterward.”

Daisy glanced at Lily.

“If anyone else has a sentence beginning with ‘What you don’t understand,’ please form a line.”

Ruby placed a leaf beside the dried ivory petal resting on the ledger.

“Did she give you this?”

White Rose nodded.

“She asked me to keep it with the records.”

“Why?”

“So that if someone changed the story, something of hers would remain.”

Lily studied the folded note.

“The one who holds the golden key is not the one who owns the secret.”

White Rose looked toward her.

“No. It isn’t.”

Rose’s voice sharpened.

“Then whose secret have we been protecting?”

White Rose hesitated.

From the old wooden cabinet came a soft knock.

Then another.

Then a third.

The Hydrangeas pressed together.

“I would like to transfer to a centerpiece,” one whispered.

“Something quiet. A bank lobby.”

Daisy stared at the cabinet.

“There. Again. We have all heard it this time. Nobody gets to blame the plumbing.”

Peony reached for the golden key.

“Then perhaps we should open it.”

“Wait,” White Rose said.

Every bloom turned toward her.

Rose’s expression hardened.

“You have had plenty of time to explain.”

“It isn’t the cabinet I’m afraid of.”

White Rose looked at the silver daisy-shaped locket lying beside its tiny detachable petal tip.

“Read the warning again.”

Daisy glanced at the aged paper insert.

“If the keeper returns, do not let her open the east gate.”

Ruby lifted her head.

“You think that means me.”

“I don’t know what you were told while you were gone.”

For the first time since her return, Ruby looked uncertain.

“What does that have to do with our mother?”

White Rose drew a slow breath.

“She made me promise that if you came back wearing that ivory mark, I would ask you one question before opening anything.”

Rose looked at the pale streak crossing her sister’s petals.

Ruby had called it a family resemblance.

Now she turned slightly away from the light.

“What question?” Rose asked.

White Rose kept her eyes on Ruby.

“Who sent you home?”

The studio seemed to shrink around them.

Ruby looked at Rose, then at the photograph.

“I came because I found out she was alive.”

Camellia’s petals trembled.

“Who told you?”

Ruby didn’t answer.

Daisy spoke more gently this time.

“Ruby. Who told you your mother was alive?”

A thin slip of paper slid from beneath the cabinet door.

Peony caught it before it reached the floor.

There were only six words.

She read them aloud.

“Ask Ruby what she promised me.”

Rose turned toward her sister.

Ruby closed her eyes.

And behind the cabinet door, something began to laugh.

To be continued…

Next episode: Episode 18 — “The Promise Behind the Door.”

A Little Petal Perfection Wisdom

Some things deserve a closer look—including your arrangement’s water level. A vase can look full from one angle while thirsty stems are running short. Check daily and add water carefully, following the care instructions included with your flowers.

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