Page 14 of Inked in Bloom
“Are you sure?” he asks, running a hand through his soft-green hair.
“The dean said I don’t have to commit to anything. Beats wallowing in bed all day, right?”
Of course I want to keep my new friend company, especially when she’s nervous, but the glimpse of what the Conservatory teaches—a way back home—is more than tempting.
It’s a lifeline.
One I won’t let slip out of my grasp. Not until I know more.
6
MONROE
“Here,” Cherri says, grabbing us some rolled-up crêpes stuffed with smoked salmon, cream cheese, capers, and dill. We eat them as we continue toward The Nursery, and while the food is delicious, it’s lead in my gut.
An expansive playground takes up the middle of The Nursery, evergreen benches lining the cream-colored walking paths shooting from it. There are viny swings, hollow tree-trunk slides and tunnels, and a zipline draped in flora across from a set of monkey bars. Children squeal, weaving in and out of the playset, a few jumping off and joining their parents as they head into the school. It’s a single-level structure, painted evergreen like the benches, with walls that are mostly made of glass. The grid of windowpanes allows us a peek inside the classrooms. The moment Kendrick heads inside, his sprouts circle him, hopping up and down, eager to learn.
The Blooms all seem so happy. As they should be. This is their afterlife.
Myafterlife.
I should accept that and find some way to cope. But no matter how hard I try or how many positives I tally off about this place, I can’t.
I miss my old life. Sure, it was hectic, but I was loved.Needed. They talk about the Blooms and their duty to bring spring, making it sound so dreamy and magical. But creating pretty flowers seems frivolous in comparison. I had a purpose on Earth. Beyond the veil, I’m simply adrift.
“Shoes off,” Cherri instructs, halting me in place.
“Why?”
“Helps with grounding when you’re drawing from the earth with your magic.”
I step out of my heels and set them side by side, admiring the peek of pink beneath them. “They really complete the outfit.”
They disappear along with Cherri’s flats, and my jaw drops. “Wha?—"
“Don’t worry. You’re still hot. Come on.” Cherri holds out her hand for me, and I take it, though my attention is wholly focused on the other end of the narrow path.
Blanketed with ivy and flowers in dusky rose and royal purple, the massive stone building is poised behind an archway of hanging vines, their vibrant buds blossoming as we pass. Up ahead awaits large cream-colored doors outlined in rose-gold metalwork, a set of matching knockers carved into bulbs glinting from the wood. I scrunch my toes each time my soles brush the dirt between the stepping stones lining our path, fighting back a shiver. City life has trained me against this sensation—dirt between my toes.
“Welcome to the Bloom Conservatory,” Cherri says with a gentle smile. “You ready?”
No. I’m not ready for any of this.
But instead of telling her I want to go back to the cottage, I toss out a lie and nod. “Ready.”
I miss the thump of my heart. Even the painful thudding from nerves. Because now? Now there’s nothing. Justanxiety lingering in my hollow body like the brittle stems of wilted flowers in a vase.
Blinking rapidly to stifle my tears, I unclench my fingers and flatten my skirt against my thighs.
Cherri grips the knob and twists. My entire body stills and I suck in a breath, secretly hoping I’ll wake from this whimsical nightmare.
I wait for the beep of machines. The face of whoever’s waiting for me. Someone had to be waiting for me, right?
My assistant? Beth and Richard? A random stranger, like something out ofWhile You Were Sleeping?
But when the door swings the rest of the way, there’s only a flower-lined hallway buzzing with students.
My stomach twists and all I manage is “Wow.”
