The Flower That Grew from Ashes novel Chapter 182

That silent vow to herself sank into the endless quiet like a pebble dropped down a deep well, stirring no echoes.

If he came, she wouldn't hide.

But she would absolutely never give him a response.

After ending the video call with Harriet, she sealed that thought away completely.

November in Oslo brought its third winter right on schedule.

Heavy snow fell without warning one morning, blanketing the entire Grünerløkka district in a thick, peaceful layer of white.

Yet Annelise's life was warmer and more vibrant than ever before.

“Anne! Anne! Look at this!”

Sophia darted out from the back workbench like an excitable red setter, holding an open calendar high in the air, nearly knocking over a freshly delivered bucket of white buttercups by the door.

“I did the math! Counting from our opening day, next Tuesday will be exactly our one-thousandth day!”

Annelise, who was standing on a small stepladder taking down a hanging golden pothos for an elderly customer, paused.

A thousand days.

She had almost forgotten how much time had passed.

Three years could actually fly by when you were no longer measuring your days in endurance and waiting.

“We have to celebrate!” Sophia's eyes sparkled like stars, her face brimming with anticipation. “Let's throw an event! We'll call it 'Daisy's One Thousandth Day.' What do you think?”

Stepping down from the ladder, Annelise handed the lush green plant to the customer and smiled at Sophia's youthful, energetic face.

She nodded.

“Let's do it.”

The celebration was planned out by Sophia and their new assistant, Emma—simple yet heartwarming.

The experiential classes they offered had expanded from two sessions a month to three a week, and there was still a month-long waiting list.

Her signature floral style, blending Eastern zen with Scandinavian minimalism, had even earned its own recognizable label in the industry.

Zenith & Borealis.

Invitations poured in from international floral exhibitions in London, Copenhagen, and Tokyo.

Keeping her promise, she also traveled twice a year to Paris for short-term residencies and guest lectures at a prestigious floral academy.

She had managed to revive Sargent Floral—her mother's shop that had previously only existed in old photographs and memories—in an entirely new way.

It was no longer just a tiny physical storefront on a specific street.

It had evolved into a unique aesthetic philosophy, seen and recognized by a growing audience.

But for Annelise herself, what she cherished most were never the glamorous achievements padding her resume.