Chapter 3 - The Cold Corridor
The small wooden backroom of Le Jardin smelled of stagnant water, floral preservation spray, and cold dust. Clara slammed the heavy pine door shut, locking the brass deadbolt with a trembling hand before pulling the bamboo shade down over the glass insert.
Lily stood near a stack of empty flower crates, holding her metal bucket against her waist like a shield.
"Answer me, child," Clara said, her dark grey blazer suddenly looking heavy and oppressive in the dim interior light. Her warm demeanor was completely gone, replaced by the razor-sharp edge of a woman caught in a lethal trap. "Who gave you that name? Who told you to stand outside this shop?"
"Nobody told me!" Lily insisted, tears welling up in her blue eyes. "I sell roses after school for Mr. Gable! My mom... my mom went away three years ago. But before she disappeared, she gave me a silver key and showed me a picture of that exact pendant! She said if I ever saw anyone wearing the Rosewood rose, it meant..."
"It meant what?" Clara demanded, stepping forward, her hands seizing Lily’s small shoulders.
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"It meant the person wearing it murdered her," Lily sobbed.
Clara let go of the girl as if she had been burned by high-voltage wire. She stumbled back against a wooden work table, knocking over a ceramic vase that shattered against the floor.
