Chapter 15 - Iris

The late afternoon sun, softened by a thin veil of clouds, cast a gentle glow over Lillian’s garden. It was a light that promised more than it delivered, a hopeful shimmer on the edge of evening. Adrian, his breath coming a little easier today but still shallow, knelt beside a row of newly planted irises. Their sword-like leaves, a deep, vibrant green, promised the elegance of purple and gold to come. He ran a careful finger along the edge of a leaf, his gaze distant.

“They say the iris represents hope,” he murmured, not looking at Lillian, who was carefully deadheading a spent peony nearby. “And faith. That even in the darkest soil, beauty will find its way to the surface.”