The Flower That Grew from Ashes novel Chapter 181

“But…” Harriet's tone turned uncertain. “A while ago, someone mentioned seeing a doctor who looked exactly like him at a private clinic in a small southern town. We couldn't confirm if it was actually him, though.”

Annelise listened quietly, her expression unreadable.

To her, this news felt like listening to a completely irrelevant local news broadcast.

Harriet paused, remembering something else.

“Oh, right, miss. Last month, when I went to the Sargent Residence to clean up, I noticed something.”

“Right at the front entrance, on that stone step you used to love sitting on, someone had left a bouquet.”

“Not the beautifully wrapped kind you'd buy at a florist. It was... just tiny wild chrysanthemums picked from the roadside, wrapped in an old newspaper, left right there.”

At the words “wildflowers” and “old newspaper,” the hand Annelise used to hold her glass paused for a fraction of a second.

Hackett Lehman.

The Hackett she remembered was an elitist neat freak.

He never touched anything he considered beneath him.

The flowers he used to give her were always the most expensive, flawlessly packaged rare blue roses flown in from Holland.

He would have thought wildflowers picked from the side of the road were meant for people with zero class.

Using newspaper as wrapping paper would have been an unimaginable vulgarity to him.

Who had taught him to do this?

The thought flashed through her mind for exactly one second before she forcibly snuffed it out.

She gave a slight shake of her head.

Stop thinking about it.

She told herself.

Looking at the worried face of the older woman who cared so deeply for her, Annelise slowly offered a reassuring smile.

“Don't worry, Harriet.”

Her voice was lighter, steadier, and more resolute than it had been two years ago.

“It doesn't matter if they find it.”

“I don't need to hide the life I have now.”

“If he comes, I won't run.”

Annelise paused, looking out the window at the quiet, snow-covered night view of Oslo.

Then, enunciating every word with perfect clarity, she delivered her final sentence.

“But I will never give him any kind of response, either.”