He always believed every truth finds its light eventually. Speaking of truth, Isaiah said after the detective left. I found something else while tending the greenhouse.
He pulled out his phone and showed me a photo of a small plaque hidden among the orchids. The inscription read, For Maddie, who taught me that the strongest flowers grow in broken places. He put that there right after my divorce, I realized.
He knew even then that I’d find my way back. So, Aaliyah said, pulling out her legal pad with a familiar glint in her eye. Should I start drawing up the business papers for Harrison Gardens? I looked out at Dad’s garden, where the roses still bloomed despite everything that had happened.
Beyond them, I could see the future he’d planned for me. Not just justice, but growth. Not just survival, but flourishing.
Yes, I said, feeling stronger than I had in years. It’s time to grow something new. To Dad.
Isaiah raised his coffee mug. To justice, Aaliyah added, raising hers. I picked up my own mug, thinking of orchids and roses, of truth and time, of endings and beginnings.
To blooming again. Through the window, the garden glowed in the afternoon sun, each flower a testament to Dad’s belief that beauty can grow even in life’s hardest soil. He’d given me more than justice.
He’d given me back my future, one bloom at a time.