Dark clouds rolled across the sky like a slow-moving tide, pressing low against the earth. The hum of the city had faded miles ago, swallowed by trees, fields, and quiet. Callum Jay tightened his grip on the leather steering wheel, his jaw firmed. He hadn't planned this trip. He hadn't planned anything in weeks.
He just needed air.
He had told Lola to get ready, told her to clear her schedule. Then, fifteen minutes later, he changed his mind. He didn't want to explain. Not to her. Not to anyone. He simply got into his car and drove with no destination.
Now, here he was, in the middle of nowhere, the storm above growing bolder.
Rain began in soft pats on the windshield. Within minutes, it was a downpour. Wipers moved rhythmically, but they couldn't keep up. The road twisted, slick with water. Callum's eyes, usually so focused, now darted left and right, scanning for any shelter. But there was nothing.
Then, a loud thud. The car jerked and a warning light flashed red. Then another light flashed as the engine died.
"No, no, not now," Callum muttered, steering the car to the side as it stuttered to a halt.
He sat still for a moment, the rain thudding against the roof. The heat inside began to fade quickly, replaced by a creeping chill.
He exhaled sharply. There was no signal. Of course there wasn't.
He leaned his head against the steering wheel, eyes closed. His mind reeled. He hadn't felt this helpless in years. Not since... Not since that night.
A bolt of lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating the road ahead. For a second, just a second, he thought he saw something through the rain.
A faint light.
He sat up straight. Squinted.
Yes. There it was again. A warm, golden flicker. Soft, steady.
Without wasting another second, he opened the door. The wind slapped him instantly, cold and wild. He pulled his coat tighter and began walking, shoes slapping through puddles, rain soaking his shirt, face, hair.
The light grew clearer. A small building. Wooden, with a crooked sign swinging on a single rusted chain.
Bloom's Botanical.
The bell above the door jingled when he stepped inside. The scent hit him first, jasmine, lavender, fresh rain on petals. Warmth wrapped around him like a blanket.
He looked around. It was quaint. Rustic wooden shelves lined with plants in handmade pots. Glass vases filled with vibrant bouquets. Everything here felt alive. Soothing.
And then...
There she was.
Behind the counter, hands deep in a vase of pale pink peonies, a woman moved with practiced grace. Her hair was pinned up loosely, a few strands falling to frame her face. She hummed to herself.
Callum froze.
His heart thudded so hard it felt like it might crack his ribs.
"Liora?" he whispered.
The woman looked up.
Their eyes met.
The vase slipped from her hands and shattered against the floor.
She stared at him, pale as the petals around her feet. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
Callum took a step forward, breath caught in his throat.
"Liora," he said again, louder now. "It's you. It's really you."
She blinked rapidly, stumbling back. "I-I think you have the wrong person."
"No," he said, shaking his head. "No, I don't. I'd know you anywhere. Your eyes. Your voice. Even your scent..."
"My name is Iris. Iris Bloom," she said quickly, backing into the wall of flowers behind her.
His hands trembled. "Don't lie to me. Please. Not after all this time."
She swallowed hard, her hands shaking as she picked up the broom from behind the counter. "I don't know you, sir. Maybe you should go."
Sir. The word gutted him.
"You were shot. I held you in my arms. I buried you in my heart for fifteen years, Liora! Don't tell me this is a coincidence."
"You're mistaken," she whispered, voice barely audible. "I'm not who you think I am."
He stepped closer. Her aura shifted. A soft flow of energy pulsed around her for a breath of a second, a shield, unintentional. A reflex.
Callum stopped, eyes wide. "That... that wasn't normal. You felt it too, didn't you?"
She shook her head frantically. "Please... go."
"No. I need answers. I need to know what happened. Why you vanished. Why your body disappeared."
She was breathing hard now, almost in panic. The broom slipped from her hand.
Outside, thunder growled again.
"Liora..." he took one more step. "If you really don't know me... then why are you crying?"
Her fingers reached up and touched her cheek. Wet tears rolled down.
She hadn't even realized.
Before she could speak, the bell above the door jingled again. A gust of wind blew in, scattering petals across the floor.
They both turned.
But no one was there. It was just cold unsettling air.
Iris took a shaky breath. "You need to leave. Now. Please."
Callum didn't move. He couldn't. His eyes were locked on her face, on the face he thought he'd never see again.
Then a man stepped out from the back of the shop, wiping his hands on a dusty apron. "Is everything alright here?"
Callum's voice trembled. "That's her. That's Liora."
The man turned to Iris, confused. "What's he talking about?"
Iris swallowed hard. "I don't know him. He just walked in and started… claiming things."
Her voice was calm, but her hands trembled. Behind her, one of the flowers on the shelf, an untouched, pale violet bloom, began to glow faintly. Its petals quivered, almost as if it had heard Callum's voice too.
Something shifted in the air.
Callum took a step back, eyes still on Iris. His voice, though quiet, carried a weight that made the room colder. "I will find out the truth. Even if it breaks me again."
Then he turned, slowly, and stepped back into the storm. Rain swallowed him.
Inside, Iris stood frozen. The bloom pulsed behind her, soft and eerie.
She was trembling. She was watching and remembering.
And it was only the beginning.