The Flower That Grew from Ashes novel Chapter 152

"Mommy, look, it's smiling at me!" The little girl spun in circles around the shop, holding a sunflower that was taller than she was, bubbling with joy.

Annelise smiled, taking it all in.

Using her still slightly accented Norwegian, she greeted every customer who walked through the doors, carefully explaining the distinct traits of the different blooms.

To her own surprise, she realized she wasn't nervous at all.

In the afternoon, the magazine editor named Ingrid arrived with a photographer.

Ingrid was a sharp, professional-looking Norwegian woman with a sleek blonde bob, draped in an immaculately tailored camel coat.

The moment she walked in, she made a beeline for the window display and stood in front of the piece named 'Rebirth' for a long time.

"This is breathtaking," she turned and said to Annelise with absolute sincerity. "I have never seen floral design like this in Oslo."

The photographer snapped dozens of pictures around the shop, capturing everything from wide-angle shots of the space to close-up macros of individual arrangements.

Meanwhile, Ingrid sat by the counter and conducted a brief, thirty-minute interview with Annelise.

Her questions were sharp, professional, and precise.

"Ms. Sargent, could you speak a bit about your design philosophy?"

"What made you choose Oslo to open a flower shop?"

"Does the name of your shop, Daisy, hold any special meaning?"

Throughout the interview, Annelise didn't mention a single word about her past.

She simply and calmly stated the most basic facts.

"I came from the East. My mother was a florist. I wanted to continue her life's work here in Oslo."

When Ingrid asked why she named it 'Daisy', Annelise went quiet for a few seconds.

Then, looking directly into Ingrid's eyes, she spoke clearly, enunciating every word.

"Daisies are the most ordinary, unremarkable flowers."

"But they have one very special ability."

"No matter how brutal the winter is, or how heavy the snow falls... the moment spring arrives, they are always the very first to bloom for you."

Then, she picked up her pen and wrote a heading at the very top of today's entry.

"Day 1. I am beginning to bloom."

Finishing the final stroke, she closed the journal.

She turned off all the overhead lights, leaving only the single spotlight in the window illuminating 'Rebirth'.

Locking the door behind her, she stepped out into Oslo's deep, freezing blue night.

In the thick snow behind her, a fresh, distinct trail of footprints was left in her wake.

She didn't look back.

Step by step, with absolute certainty, she walked toward her small, warm apartment.

Behind her, the window of Daisy Flower glowed like a tiny, unextinguishable lighthouse.

In the long, dark polar night, it stubbornly cast a beam of light for every soul that happened to walk by.