The sun rose over Densfield City with a golden calm, casting soft light over cobbled streets and terracotta rooftops. The city, nestled in the small coastal stretch of Lorne, Victoria, came alive with a charm only found in seaside towns. The scent of ocean breeze mixed with the sweet perfume of blooming roses drifting from the heart of Lu Shayron's private garden.
Her garden, sprawling behind her elegant duplex house on Clementine Street, was a haven of color and calm. Rows of roses, tulips, and native blooms danced gently in the morning breeze. Lu, in her wide-brimmed straw hat and linen apron, was already at work, clipping fresh peonies with practiced care.
Life outside the bridge of her love for Baily was one of quiet purpose. She was a flower seller—not the kind who manned a cart on a corner, but one known throughout Lorne for the rare and exquisite flowers she cultivated. Twice a month, shipments came in from Sydney, handpicked by a partner florist who admired her vision. The city's best events were rarely complete without Lu's arrangements.
She moved gracefully between her garden beds, humming a tune known only to her. She loved mornings like these: sun-kissed and worry-free, with soil under her nails and the world at peace.
Her phone buzzed in her apron pocket.
Clara Nori: Need your magic at the Mayor's Hall today. VIP visit. Can you help?
Lu smiled. Clara Nori, the charismatic mayor of Densfield, was more than a political figure—she was one of Lu's dearest friends. The two had bonded over a shared passion for community, and over the years, Lu had become the unofficial heart of the Mayor's event team. Brave, resourceful, and ever-composed, Lu had coordinated events that brought both celebration and healing to the city.
She quickly texted back: "On my way in an hour. Bring coffee."
After placing the freshly picked blooms into cool water buckets, Lu changed into a cream blouse and navy trousers, her style as clean and composed as her demeanor. She took a moment on the front porch, sipping from her mug, letting the sun kiss her cheeks.
There were moments like these when the chaos of her other life—the hidden letters, the whispered names, the shape of a man who lived beyond the law—seemed like a dream. In this world, she was simply Lu: the flower seller, the event planner, the heartbeat of a peaceful town.
But she knew better than to get too comfortable in the sunlight. The night would always return.
And with it, him.