I looked around my shop.
Buckets of roses stood beside the cooler. My assistant was already organizing deliveries.
Every instinct told me to refuse.
“I’ll do it,” I said.
A few hours later, I was arranging flowers at a reception venue I had never worked before when I noticed a familiar woman near the entrance.
Colleen.
For a second, I thought grief was playing another trick on me.
Then she turned.
It was definitely her.
I almost called out.
Then she saw me.
Her expression shifted—not into sadness or surprise, but something closer to fear.
She immediately turned and disappeared down a side hallway.
That made no sense.
Colleen and I had barely spoken since Adrian died, but why would she hide from me?
I followed.
“Colleen?”
She stopped and stared at me.
“Meredith?”
“What exactly are you doing here right now?”
She looked uneasy.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
