Chapter 46: The Petal That Hid from the Sun
The late spring sun poured gently through the tall windows of the Ainsley estate, painting golden patterns on the marble floors and across the velvet carpets like soft lace. Morning had barely passed, and already the house seemed to shimmer with a gentle kind of magic—silent, elegant, and alive in the small ways only a home full of love could be.
Eva, now three and walking with the grace of someone far older, wandered through the rooms in her soft cream dress, her slippered feet barely making a sound. A ribbon of pale blush pink was tied loosely in her silky dark with a hints of blue hair, though it had already begun to slip slightly askew from her many tiny adventures—crawling beneath chairs, nestling into window alcoves, and ducking around corners with sudden nervous energy.
She had taken to haunting the same three windows lately. All of them faced the estate next door. All of them offered, with the right timing and angle, a glimpse of her.
Seraphina.
Eva hadn't spoken a word to the older girl—not once. She didn't know her favorite color or what kind of toys she liked or whether she preferred cats or dogs. But Eva knew the sound of her laugh, even from across the hedges. She knew how Seraphina's hair fluttered when she spun in the sun, and how her white sandals kicked up small petals when she ran through her garden. Seraphina was like a living spark, always bright, always moving, always shining.
And Eva… always hiding.
This morning, she had spotted her again. Seraphina was dressed in soft yellow today, like a buttercup, twirling with a scarf that caught the wind and danced with her. Eva peeked from behind the linen curtains of the study, her chin resting just against the wood of the windowsill, her breath fogging a small circle on the glass.
Seraphina laughed—loud, delighted. And just like that, Eva vanished.
She ran, soft and quick as a puff of wind, skirts whispering behind her, through the hallway and around the nearest corner. She stopped only once she had curled herself into a sitting position behind a velvet armchair in the parlor, cheeks burning.
"What on earth are you doing there, little cloud?" Vivienne's voice floated down, lilting with affection.
Eva peeked out, just enough for her eyes to show, wide and flustered. Vivienne, dressed in a loose silk robe over her blouse and slacks, was sipping tea by the fireplace. Her long black hair was braided back lazily today, a pin holding one side in place.
"I wasn't doing anything," Eva mumbled, her voice a whisper.
Vivienne tilted her head, eyes gleaming with mischief. She set down her cup and walked over, her steps slow and theatrical. "Mmhmm. You weren't doing anything, were you? Not, say… watching a certain glowing neighbor again?"
Eva puffed her cheeks and burrowed deeper behind the chair, hiding her face with both hands. "No…"
Vivienne knelt beside her and poked her softly in the cheek. "Your ears are pink, little cloud."
"They're not!"
"Your face is warm."
"No, it isn't…"
Vivienne scooped her up with practiced ease and sat on the nearby couch, settling Eva into her lap. "You are the cutest little thing when you're flustered," she whispered into Eva's hair, planting a kiss just above her brow. "She's very pretty, that Seraphina, isn't she?"
Eva nodded quickly, then shook her head, then nodded again.
Vivienne chuckled. "Ah, a complicated opinion. I understand. She's like a sparkler, don't you think? All shimmer and motion."
Eva murmured, "She's like sunlight."
Vivienne hugged her tighter. "She is. But you're like moonlight. And moonlight hides from the sun sometimes, doesn't it?"
Eva nodded again, quietly. Her hands gripped Vivienne's sleeve, as if she could hide in the folds.
"Would you like to go say hello one day?" Vivienne asked gently, tracing slow circles against Eva's back.
"I can't," Eva mumbled. "I don't know how."
Vivienne didn't push. "That's alright. You don't have to. Some flowers take time to bloom."
*****
Later that afternoon, the weather warmed into a sweet breeze, and Eva wandered the garden paths behind the estate with her stuffed lamb tucked under one arm. She wore a soft blue cardigan now, buttoned only at the top, and her cheeks were still pink from earlier teasing.
She wasn't expecting it, not truly—but when she rounded the corner past the hedge archway near the west side of the property, she saw her.
Seraphina.
The older girl was standing just across the wrought-iron fence that separated the estates. She wore her yellow dress still, now grass-stained at the knees. A kite string was in her hand, the kite itself dancing just above in the wind like a ribbon of joy.
Their eyes met.
Eva froze.
Seraphina tilted her head and smiled—a soft, curious smile that lit up her whole face. She raised a hand slowly. Not a wave, just a greeting. An acknowledgment.
Eva panicked.
She turned and ran, feet flying across the grass, her lamb bouncing in one hand, the other clutching at her ribboned hair to keep it from flying loose.
She didn't stop until she reached the gazebo, where she dove behind one of the flower-laden benches and pressed her back against the wood, heart pounding in her tiny chest.
She stayed there for minutes, breath catching in her throat.
From the corner of her vision, a pair of pointed flats approached on the stepping stones.
"Darling," Vivienne said with a smirk in her voice, "you ran like you were being chased by a ghost."
Eva groaned softly and covered her face with both hands.
Vivienne crouched and sat beside her on the bench, lifting Eva up into her lap again, letting her settle with a long sigh and nestle under her chin.
"She saw me," Eva whispered into her chest. "She smiled…"
"She's very nice, isn't she?"
Eva didn't respond.
Vivienne gently poked her side. "Did you smile back?"
"No…"
"She waved?"
Eva shook her head. "She lifted her hand. Like this." She demonstrated weakly, fingers fluttering.
"Well, that's practically a royal greeting," Vivienne teased. "You should have curtsied."
"Aunt Vivi!" Eva squeaked, burying her face against her aunt's neck.
Vivienne chuckled and kissed the top of her head. "Alright, alright. No more teasing for now."
"Good…"
They sat in silence for a moment. Bees buzzed lazily in the lavender. The wind tugged at leaves with a kind hand.
Then Eva whispered, "Aunt Vivi… may I have hugs and kisses?"
Vivienne smiled warmly. "Always."
She lifted Eva slightly, kissed both cheeks, then her nose, then her brow. Eva giggled and wrapped her arms tightly around her aunt's neck, clinging as if the wind might carry her away otherwise.
"You make everything feel better," Eva whispered.
Vivienne rocked her gently. "You make everything worth it, little moonbeam."
*****
That evening, after dinner, Eva sat by the window of her bedroom, cradled in a blanket, her hair now brushed and braided loosely over one shoulder. The lights were off. Only the moonlight and the distant glow of lamps from the Langford estate lit the garden paths.
Seraphina was there again.
Sitting by herself under a tree with a book.
This time, Eva didn't hide. She only watched, soft-eyed and still, her heart thudding somewhere behind her ribs like a question with no answer.
She pressed a hand to the glass and whispered, "Maybe… tomorrow."
Behind her, from the doorway, Vivienne watched without interrupting. She didn't say anything—not yet. But her smile was gentle and knowing.
She would wait. Just like Eva waited.
Some flowers only bloomed when the sun felt just right.