I placed the heart pillow on my bed and carefully examined the flowers. They held all my secrets. Multiple notes said so. But where? How?
I stepped back. Did they make a pattern? Point to something?
The mattress dipped as I sat down. I couldn’t find any significance in the colors or rows. I knew the different styles probably had names, but I only knew two of them.Rosebecause all the women on the show with the bachelor had wanted one. Anddaffodil, thanks to Tucker.
I stared at them until my eyes blurred, then I realized some of the leaves had fine details, tiny markings that were barely perceptible.
I walked close to them. Not every flower had these markings. I pulled a pink one from the wall and brought it over to the small window for more light.
I turned it over and immediately registered the markings.
Words.
I had written words on the back of the flower, and the bleed-through made it appear as though they were little lines to give the leaves texture.
I greedily read the message.
Journal taped under middle dresser drawer.
Really?
I hurried to the dresser, setting down the flower and pulling out the drawer. I felt around, and sure enough, a sheaf of papers was fastened to the bottom.
I pulled it down.
The front cover had words similar to the ones on my belly.
Trust only this handwriting.
This is the book.
Remember your life.
The handwriting was a match. I’d carefully kept it on my skin with a marker from the art room. The teacher had let me take it.
I shoved the papers beneath some shirts in the drawer to look at later.
What other secrets did my room hold?
I almost jumped when Mother appeared in my doorway. “Would you like some tea, Ava?”
I steadied my breath before I answered, willing my voice not to shake. “I’m a little tired.” I closed the drawer slowly and carefully. She couldn’t look! That would be terrible!
“Putting your things away?” Her gaze slid to the unopened suitcase.
“Just seeing what all I had.”
She nodded, then stepped forward to pick up the paper flower I’d left on the dresser top.
My heart hammered so hard it was painful to take a breath.
“Did it fall off the wall?”
I took it from her before she might see the words. “It was on the floor.”
She glanced around my room, her gaze resting on the heart pillow. “Take some time to lie down.”
“Okay.” I moved to the bed and sat down, needing to protect my pillow. Something in her expression unsettled me, like she wanted to take it away.
