Graden carefully removed the flower from her trembling hands.
As Graden inspected the delicate petals, Ella could only stare. She had never seen a blue rose before. Her mother believed in the blue rose, the power. She had told Ella stories about the rose. Magical and wondrous.
“Ella,” Graden called.
She couldn’t take her gaze from the rose in his hands. She had it! She wouldn’t be sad any longer.
“Ella.”
Ella looked at him.
He showed her his thumb. A smudge of blue stained his skin.
For a long moment, Ella stared, unable to fathom what the stain was. Her gaze shifted to the rose and she saw one of its petals had a red mark on it. She took a step closer to Graden, unable to tear her confused gaze from the rose. The smudge on his finger matched the color of the rose. Blue. She looked closely at the rose. It looked like the rose’s color had been scrubbed away. Shock raced through her and a feeling of falling swept over her.
It was a red rose! A red rose died blue!
