The Flower That Grew from Ashes novel Chapter 195

"Certification," Annelise echoed, trimming a stem without looking up.

"Exactly!" Sophia's excitement bubbled over. "Think about it. Our experiential workshops are insanely popular. Three sessions a week, totally booked, and people can't even get a spot a month in advance. We should stop squeezing classes into the back of the shop and just open a standalone floral studio!"

Annelise's hands paused.

"A real floral studio," Sophia gestured widely. "With a dedicated teaching space, a display area for portfolios, and enough room to host boutique floral salons. Anne, with your reputation and that guest designer title from the Paris Academy, it would be a guaranteed hit!"

Annelise put down her shears and looked at her.

"Have you run the numbers on the cost?"

"A little bit." Sophia stuck her tongue out sheepishly. "But Anne, isn't that little nest egg you've been saving for three years exactly for something like this?"

Annelise fell silent.

It was true; since her second year in business, she had funneled thirty percent of the profits into a separate account every month.

She had never touched that money.

She'd harbored a vague idea in the back of her mind, but no one had ever laid it out as directly and clearly as Sophia just had.

"A studio," she murmured softly, testing the words on her tongue.

"Exactly!" Emma chimed in. Having a background in banking, she was far more structured than Sophia. "Anne, I've already done some preliminary math. On the third floor right above our shop, next to Mr. Judd's architecture firm, there's a studio space that's been vacant for over half a year. It's spacious, gets great natural light, and the rent is a fraction of what we'd pay on the main commercial street."

Annelise looked up.

"You've already scoped out a place?"

"Just passing by," Emma said, a bit embarrassed. "I just thought the location was absolutely perfect. It's close to our shop, so students could pop down to buy flowers right after class."

Annelise walked behind the counter and poured herself a glass of water.

Holding the glass, she stared out the window at the brightening sky, lost in thought.

Three years ago, she couldn't even speak a full sentence in Norwegian. She had clutched a wad of cash from selling off her jewelry in Cresthaven, just trying to open a tiny flower shop in a foreign city.

Back then, she just wanted a corner of the world where she could survive and breathe.

She never imagined the day someone would say words like "studio," "certifications," or "salons" to her.

Let alone that the people saying them would be looking at her with such absolute trust and anticipation.

On this very morning.

On one side of the city, a man lay in a hospital bed, burning with fever, obsessively murmuring a name he could never get back.

And on the other side of the city, a woman stood in the shop she had built with her own hands, working brick by brick with her trusted partners to plan an even grander future that belonged entirely to her.

The morning light spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, landing on the bucket of pristine white ranunculus.

The layered petals were in perfect bloom.

Annelise reached in, pulling out the most vibrant stem of the bunch and held it up to the light.

"For the corporate gala the day after tomorrow," she told Sophia. "We'll use this batch for the main installation—a white and gold floral arch. I want anyone who sees it to be stopped dead in their tracks."

"You got it!" Sophia agreed, bursting with motivation.

The man in the hospital bed, the torrential rain from the night before, the rotted dream she had left behind without a backward glance.

In this moment, Annelise didn't spare them a single second of thought.

Her eyes were focused solely on the blooming flower in her hand, and the crystal-clear, brand-new tomorrow taking shape beneath her feet.